Learning to Trust
by Lady Healer
Summary: She wanted to be free. To escape the torture that was her life. She never imaged that she would land in another world. Can she learned to trust again after a life of pain?
1. Chapter one: Gift or Curse

_Disclaimer: I own nothing! _

_ Hi. I know some of you are probably sick and tired of a girl from another world getting toss into Middle-Earth; all I can say is sorry. But please give it a chance! I'll try to keep it away from becoming a Mary Sue, but I can't make any promises. _

_Well, I'll stop talking so you can read._

_Enjoy!_

_ -Lady Healer. _

Learning to Trust.

_Chapter one: Gift or Curse_

           A child of nine walked across the floor of the dinning hall carrying a stack of plates. Her long dark hair was knotted, greasy, and caught in a messy ponytail. Occasionally, she would trip on the rags, once a dress, that she wore. Through the torn fabric, bruises and whip marks could be seen. 

A minstrel at court, she reflected, sang about life as a precious gift, to never be wasted. But for her, it was a curse; more terrible than all the demons in Hell. She may be the daughter of a noble but she was treated like a slave. Her father had not wanted her. He wanted a son, and when her mother didn't give him a proper heir, he killed her. The guards were ordered to 'get rid of her.' 

But one guard couldn't. His heart wouldn't allow him to harm such an innocent, so he took her home to his wife and they raised her as their own child. 

The first five years of her life had been happy ones. She could remember them clearly; helping her mother with dinners, wrestling with her brothers, and listening to her father's timeworn stories. But on her six birthday that had changed. The lord of Rolian heard rumors of a little girl that looked like the ghost of his first wife. She had been living with one of his guards; reared as his child. 

The lord summoned the family before the court and ordered them killed while her Father watched. All but two: the youngest son, a child of three and her of course. To this day she didn't know what happened to her foster father. There were rumors that he was locked in the dungeons to suffer for the rest of his life. Others said that he took his own life while awaiting punishment. 

Tripping on the edge of her 'skirt' the child lost her balance and the plates went crashing to the floor and shattered. Gray eyes widened at the sound of running feet. Dropping down, shards of glass cut into her knees as she hastily tried to clean the mess up, slicing her hands in the process. The doors of the dinning hall burst opened and a ragged woman in her late thirties ran to the child. 

"Lillian, child, are you all right?" Shaking her head, Lillian refused to look up as tears fell from her eyes unchecked. Grasping the child's wrist, the older woman said gently, "Lillian stop. You are hurting yourself."

Shaking her head furiously, Lillian commented softly, "He'll be mad. I'll be punished." Sorrow filled the older woman's gaze. 

"I know child. Go to Liz, she will help you with your wounds. I'll clean up the mess." 

"But if the master finds you here, Rena, you'll be punished." 

Smiling sadly, Rena said, "I know child, it will be all right. You'll see." 

"No!" Lillian whispered furiously, shaking her head. "This is my mistake. You shouldn't be punished because of me." Pulling the girl to her feet, Rena pushed her to the door. 

"Nonsense. If we both stay here, we will both be punished. And we don't want that. Besides you are already injured. And considering that I am not, it will be I who will take the punishment." 

"That's not right." Lillian said flatly. Hearing voices, Rena gave Lillian a harder push. 

"Run, child. They are coming closer." 

"But..." The child protested. 

"Run! Now!" Rena commanded. Glancing once more at her friend Lillian nodded before she fled as fast as the pain would let her. Her eyes became a storming gray as fear for her friend grew. As she ran towards Liz, she didn't realized until it was too late that this would be the last time she would see Rena. 

  
  
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Ten years later. 

Lillian was nineteen now. And the only thing that changed was that her blood father finally took an interest in her; but not as his daughter. No, never as his daughter, his mind was to long lost to wine to realize that he even had a daughter. He mistook her for his long dead wife. He called her by her mother's name, Lylia. 

She was ordered to be at his bed chamber tonight. But she would not go. Oh, she told him that she would be there, but she was no fool. Lillian knew that if he thought she would obey willingly, he wouldn't set guards to watch her. Thus he couldn't stop her, and he won't have a chance to do to her what he did to her mother and countless other women. She would **not** be his mistress; she would **not** bear his children. 

She would die first. 

Lillian walked calmly to the fountain in the mansion garden where she sat for a moment. She gazed one last time upon the tiny, imported fish and breathed in the scent of water flowers. Taking a kitchen knife out of her apron pocket she plunged it into her stomach without hesitation. It was one of the more painful ways to die, but she didn't care. If her soul was immortal, she could be rewarded for a life of servitude, or be condemned for not being satisfied with that servitude. Or, she could simply cease to be in any form and end both torment and/or boredom. 

As her warm blood spilled over her hands, she did not notice the changed scenery. She no longer lay in the manicured garden of her blood father, but a wild forest. Nor did she hear the alarmed voices of a man and three little hobbits. All she knew was the angelic presence that enfolded her as her mind succumbed to darkness.

Quickly kneeling next to the wounded lady, a scruffy looking man pulled the knife from her stomach after ripping part of his cloak to create a makeshift bandage. After wrapping it tightly around the wound he gently picked her up and took off at a fast pace, calling to the hobbits behind him. 

"Hurry! We must reach Rivendell." 

Hastily, the halflings followed the ranger while one of them asked, "Strider isn't there anything you could do for her?" 

"Rivendell is less than five minutes away. Lord Elrond will be able to help her better than I." Strider replied without breaking glancing back.

"But who is she and where did she come from," asked another hobbit. 

"I don't know" Strider answered as he entered the city.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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	2. Chapter two: Rivendell and Elvish Lords

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

_Well, everyone… this is an updated version of chapter 2, so I hope everyone likes the changes._

And now I will shut up and let everyone read.

_See ya!_

- _Lady Healer._

_Chapter two: Rivendell and Elvish Lords._

The elven lord of Imladris looked out of from the balcony to the gardens below as he pondered recent events. Two beings had arrived in his home, both wounded. 

The first was a young hobbit who had been stabbed with a morgul blade. His name was Frodo Baggins; and the halfling was lucky to be alive. He had been fading fast and if he had arrived one moment later, he would have fallen beyond healing. But the hobbit was now resting comfortably in a small pavilion. Though, Elrond knew that he would always carry the scar with him. 

And as he looked to the sky, his thoughts shifted to another charge that had recently come under his care. When his foster child had come running into Rivendell, he had given little thought to such questions as the girl's origin, for the wound was too severe. 

Even before he began to treat her he had noticed many things about the child. Her appearance was filthy; dirt had covered her from head to toe, as if she had not seen a bath for many weeks, perhaps months. It had taken precious moments to clean the area around the stab wound before he could properly treat it. And by the time he did, inflection had begun to set in. 

After the wound was treated he had ordered maids to bathe her before he came back to check on her. What he had seen at his second visit had surprised him, but only a little; he had seen far worse things in his time in this world. The child's cheeks were sunken in, and one glance confirmed his suspicions that she was badly malnourished. Throughout the check up he had spotted others signs that implicated abuse… But the one thing that did truly surprise him was that the stab wound was self-inflicted; it was easy to tell by the angle and placement. 

The sound of footsteps brought the elven lord out of his thoughts as he foster son enter the room. Silence passed between them before Elrond stated, "The girl you brought to me is resting comfortably. Her injury was severe enough that I did not question you at the time," the elf turned to watch Aragorn. One hand was left on the balcony as the human joined him. "Where did you find a human so young and steeped in misery that she made an attempt on her own life"? 

Looking at the gardens below Aragorn answered, "I found her outside of Rivendell. No more than ten minutes walking distance." Turning his blue-gray eyes to his foster father he questioned, "How could she come so close to Rivendell without the sentinels noticing?" 

"I do not know," replied the Elven lord as he gazed at the gardens below. "I do not believe that this was the first time that our lady stranger has been hurt." 

"What do you mean?"

 Sighing, Elrond answered him. "There are old scars on her back and arms. They suggest the use of an item, a whip or scourge for example." 

Studying his foster father carefully Aragorn asked, "Do you think that may be the reason? Could she have been beaten? Or captured by orcs?"

"It is possible," the elder consented, but he doubted it. Though the orcs loved to torture, the marks on the child did not match what the foul creatures would have done… And the malnutrition that had to be considered. If he was correct then this abuse had be going on for many years, and orcs almost never kept their victims alive that long. "But we will not know until she awakens." Turning around to face Aragorn, Elrond continued, "Estel, I want you to patrol the nearby area and learn if there is anyone else. If so, I want them brought to me." A small smile graced the human's lips at his childhood name. 

"Of course, my lord." Pausing for only a brief moment, he asked, "How is Frodo, the injured hobbit?" 

"He is mending well." Elrond looked out across his valley realm toward the small pavilion where the ring barer rested. "Frodo shall make a full recovery, though he will never be rid of the scars his night in Arman sul left him." 

"Hopefully, he will never need to take further injury." And with that comment, Aragorn left the room to complete his task.

One week later

  
  


Lillian slowly drifted from a world of darkness to an unfamiliar softness. 'This must be the Afterlife,' the disposed princess thought drowsily. 'It's a lot nicer than I thought.' A warm breeze stirred her hair, and she realized it was clean. Washed, brushed, and smelling of sweet flowers and rain. It was an odd feeling for rarely were the servants of the court of Kalin given water to bathe. They were lucky if they could cleanse themselves once a year. 

A shaft of sunlight illuminated half her face, and she turned her head away from the uncomfortable brightness. Slowly she opened her eyes and stared in wonder at her hair, a warm brown color. It was strange seeing it so clean… She was used to seeing it in such a tangled mess that its length was at her shoulders caked in dirt so thick the whole mass appeared to be a ball of mud. And now it was clean, dull, but clean, and Lillian decided she like the feeling. But she wondered… why was it clean? Shifting, a twinge fluttered up in her stomach. Although small, she gasped at the sensation. 

Pain: the one common factor in life. If she felt pain, then she wasn't dead. But if she was truly alive, what was this place? And how did she get here? A frown graced her lips at those thoughts. Who saved her, and most importantly, why? 

Shaking her head to clear her mind, she looked around the room. It was bigger then her old room. Such a thing was not difficult to imagine. Her old room was little more then a closet. 

  
It was a simple room, yet it projected a beauty that she had never seen before. To the right of the bed that she lay in, which was covered in silken white blankets, was an elegant table with two chairs. 

Shifting her attention to the entranceway her gaze froze as she spotted the person standing in the arched doorway, a small tray in his hands. He was ... handsome. Easily the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life. 

His long shining chestnut hair was pulled back by two small braids revealing pointed ears. The odd shape of his ears did not decrease his beauty, instead enhancing it, giving him the appearance of a mystical being. The stranger was dressed in a blue, long sleeved tunic with the top laces undone. It revealed fair skin and a well-defined chest. 

  
A pair of well-tailored tan leggings suited his figure quite well. He had a youthful appearance, seeming to be around her age. His brown eyes, however, belied his youthful looks, showing years of wisdom, despite their mirth.  "Good morning, my lady. I trust you are feeling better this morning," said the beautiful stranger in a deep soothing voice. His voice shook Lillian out her shock. Mentally cursing her error, she cast her eyes down to her hands as she tensed, preparing for the blow to come. If any servant made eye contact with a noble, they were immediately beaten. Her cursed blood father and his court held themselves above it, as did all his guests. 

A frown graced the stranger face as he saw the lady's reaction. "Why do you tense, my lady?" 

Keeping her head bowed, Lillian whispered dejectedly, "I must be punished." 

The 'man,' for lack of a better term, stopped still. He blinked, and then blinked again. "Why would my father make the effort to heal you, only to make more scars"? 

"If you would allow me to speak freely, my Lord." Lillian waited until her peripheral vision saw him nod. "There are many sadistic and perverse nobles in the court of my Master." 

"Well," the stranger said placing his fine nose in the air. "Although I may be perverse, I assure you that no harm is to be dealt in the Last Homely House." His unsubtle mockery did not catch in Lillian's hazy mind. A sudden fear gripped her as she thought of what she might be required to do in order to repay this strange man's hospitality. Fortunately, he saw her hesitation and corrected himself...after a fashion. 

"Madame, I will not ask you to chew my food for me or other such trivialities." He set the tray down on a side table. "Indeed, I only ask you to chew your own." Reaching for her hand, as it lay bunched in the coverlet, he raised it to his lips. "Welcome to the House of my father, Elrond Halfelven. I am Elrohir, brother of Elladan. May I have your name, my Lady"? 

  
"I, I am Lillian, daughter of Lylia, servant in the Court of Kalin." She flushed deeply as Elrohir kissed her hand in the way of princes. 

  
"Welcome to Rivendell, Lady Lillian." The woman shifted uncomfortable in the company in this beautiful stranger, biting back a wince at the action. This stranger, this Elrohir, said she was in Rivendell, but where was that? She had never heard of it before. 

Looking out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Elrohir before locking onto the tray of food. She was hungry. And the plate was set for a king. It was probably this stranger's food. Nobles never really did care if a staved servant watched them while they ate their food. 

Normally, she had one meal for the day, maybe two if she was lucky and the portions were always small. She would have been sickly thin if she hadn't been good enough at stealing from the kitchens or if Galen had not brought some pieces of bread to her. It was never much, but it kept her alive. As it was, she was still dangerously underweight. Elrohir caught her sideways glances at the tray of food and smiled warmly. 

"You can eat if you want. I brought it for you in case you woke up." Lillian's eyes widened. Why would a noble bring a servant food? The woman opened her mouth to ask her question but before any sound escaped she closed it. She had almost broken two of the rules ingrained in her mind since she was six; to never question a noble, and to never speak without permission. Studying her hands once more, Lillian shook her head slowly.

Frowning, Elrohir said gently, "Surely you are hungry. You were unconscious for a week." 

  
Again, the woman shook her head. She was hungry, true, but it was wrong for a servant to be brought food by a noble. 

Sorrow entered the brown eyes of Elrohir. Someone had hurt this young woman gravely. It showed through her eyes and actions. The ways she was taught were too deeply engraved. It angered him that someone would do this to someone so young. People like that were no better than orcs in his opinion. 

He would need to switch tactics at least until he could gain her trust. She was too afraid for his normal charming self to be of any good. And she needed to eat, she was too thin and Elrohir had the feeling that the malnutrition had also weakened her immune system. He carefully banked his emotions; it would do her no good to see that anger. 

Gently smiling down to the woman, Elrohir commented, "It is all right, Lady Lillian. You can speak freely here. Ask any questions you might have." 

Looking up in surprise, Lillian briefly locked gaze with the beautiful 'man.' No noble had made such an offer to a servant before. Why was he being so kind? And again, Lillian curse herself, as she dropped her eyes to her hands. 

Opening his mouth to soothe her fears, he stopped when he heard a grumble from the timid woman's stomach. Smiling gently, he reached for the tray of food. He knew she was hungry, understandably so. The smiled faded and his hand stilled as he saw the reaction the young woman had to her slight noise. 

  
Lillian had curled herself into a small ball. Her eyes closed tightly and her body tensed like she was expecting to be hit. His father needed to know of this. 

She waited for the blow to come. She broke the rules and now she was going to be punished. And thus she waited. Nothing came. Opening one eye, she saw that the room was empty. The only sign the man had been there was the steaming tray at her bedside.

  
               
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"His strength returns." Elrond comments as Gandalf and he watched the hobbits reunion.

  
"That wound will never fully heal. He will carry it the rest of his life." Gandalf stated solemnly.

  
"And yet to have come so far still bearing the Ring ... the Hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to its evil." Elrond replied turning his attention to Gandalf.

  
"It is a burden he should never have to had to bear. We can ask no more of Frodo." Gandalf said firmly before asking, "What is this I heard about a mysterious woman you treated for a stab wound? Do you know who the lass is?" 

  
Shaking his head, Elrond started to walk down the hallway, answering, "No, I don't. She has not yet awakened."

  
"Mmmm..." Seeing one of Elrond's twin sons approaching, Gandalf reframed from continuing with his comment. 

  
"Ada, the mysterious woman, Lady Lillian, has awakened." Elrohir said as he came to a stop in front of his father. 

  
"Her name is Lillian, you say." Elrond turned to his son with a small warmth in his features. "Have you learned anything else"? 

  
"Only that she has spent many years in slavery." Both men stiffened at that. 

  
"You know this because she has told you?" 

  
"I know, Master Gandalf," Elrohir spoke to the wizard while keeping his gaze on his father, "because she addressed herself as a servant. Yet she refused to meet my eyes, and also held herself as one accustomed to beatings." 

  
Closing his sorrowful eyes briefly, before returning his glazed with his son, Elrond continued. "Do you know where she came from or how she arrived near Rivendell?"

  
Elrohir shook his head.  "No. Every time she did or said something that her 'Master,' " he spat the word out with disgust. " disapproved of, she would tense, waiting to be hit. I thought it best to inform you first and seek your advice, Father."

  
"We need to know where she comes from and her past if we are going to help her." The Elf lord stated. Pausing briefly to study his son. He could see his anger, but did not comment on it. "Do not push her for her past. Let her come to terms with it, and that she is free here. She does not have answer to anyone, and that includes ourselves. Let her know that we are here to help her not harm her."

  
"That will not be easy." Elrohir commented, remembering the lady's earlier actions. "She still fears her master's rules."

  
"Then we will have to show her that those rules no longer exist." Elrond replied, switching directions to head towards the room where Lady Lillian rested. "Come, I would like to meet this lady and greet her properly to Rivendell." Elrond said, a slight note of teasing at the end.

  
Shaking his head, smiling, Elrohir stated, "I already did that father."

  
Raising one eyebrow at his son, the Elven Lord teased, "There is your flirting difference in the end, my son."

  
"Ada!"

______________________________

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	3. Chapter 3: Many meetings and truth revea...

_Disclaimer: As everyone knows, I own nothing!_

**Midnight-Insomniac1532 **_– I'm glad you like the story. _

****

**LalaithoftheBruinen**_ – I'm happy you have been enjoying the story so far. And thanks for the suggestion! I didn't even realize that I had it set to block anonymous reviews. I now have the block off. Thanks again!  _

**Just2spooky ** **_- _**_Thanks. The next chapter will probably be out shortly. I am about a third of the way done with it. However, I cannot say when for sure, for college and work takes up a lot up my time**.**___

**Estelbain**_ – Thanks! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!_

_Before I am quiet, I would like to thanks **Phoenix** for all the help she gave me and still is giving me. _

_Now, I hope you all enjoy the chapter!_

_-Lady Healer_

Chapter 3: Many meetings and truth revealed.

Why didn't he punish her? Lillian wondered, her hunger forgotten as her thoughts raced. She had broken the rules, more than once. Yet, this strange noble didn't hit her or even yell. She stared at the spot where Elrohir had stood just minutes earlier, confused about his actions.   
He was different and not just because of his ears either. He ignored her mistakes; he brought her food and encouraged her to eat. He even allowed her to speak freely. No noble had ever done that. Why did he?   
A grumble from her stomach drew Lillian out of her thought. Alarmed, she scanned the room for people. Finding herself alone, she breathed a sigh of relief. If no one was around, she could not be punished for her error. After a quick glare at her stomach, Lillian's eyes focused on the tray of food.  
It was wrong for a servant to eat food given by a noble. They were punished if they did. Back in her blood father's home, the nobles enjoyed tormenting the servants with their twisted humor. They would offer a servant food and if the servant accepted the food, they were beaten until near death. But if the servant declined the food they were locked in the dungeons for a week to starve.   
The only way out of that situation was to go unnoticed by the nobles. That in it's self was not an easy task, for the aristocrats often looked for reasons to punish those below them. And if they could not find a reason they often made up one, using the servants as a way to curb their own boredom.   
Yet, this new noble seemed different. He projected of aura of kindness and sincerity. One she has not seen since her foster father. But the Father of her heart was not a noble, just a simple man of simple ideals. From her hazy memories, Lillian could recall that her foster father did things because it was the right thing to do. But she learned later that nobles did not have the same attitude. They were greedy, uncaring, and only wanted more power.   
Except, for her mother's family. Rena and Liz, her only friends, whose families had served hers since before her grandfather was but a child himself, told her. It was her mother that was the true heiress to the throne of Rolian. Her blood father-a lower ranking noble-had married into the royal family. She was told that when everyone first met Kalin, that he seemed to be a sweet, caring person. It was only after the marriage and the mysterious deaths of the king and queen that his true colors showed through.  
Her mother's father, King Thildern, didn't want his daughter burdened with the duties of ruling, and gave the mantle of power to his new son in law. The next month, the King and Queen were found dead. They were both old and it had been assumed that they died in their sleep. However, once Kalin started ruling with a marked lack of concern for his wife's grief, the people began to wonder at the death of their beloved Monarchs.   
By that time, it was too late. The new king had already placed his allies in the position to stop any rebellion. Anyone who questioned Kalin's rule or took a stand against him was killed on the spot.  
Shaking her head to free it of the past, Lillian focused on the food. Perhaps, this once, she would risk the punishment of her actions. She was hungry and a week of starvation would kill her anyway. Slowly, wincing at the pain in her stomach, she sat up and the covers fell down.   
Lillian's eyes widened in shock at the clothes she was wearing. It was beautiful. An elegant white nightgown with silver embroidery stitched along the round neckline. Lillian was almost positive that it was made out of silk. But why would nobles waste such material on a servant?   
Once more Lillian shook her head, deciding to ponder it later. Reaching out towards the tray of food, the young woman didn't notice the three beings that silently walked through the door as she brought the tray to her lap. She cursed herself, when the goblet of water fell to the floor, because of her shaking hands. She just hoped she wouldn't be punished to harshly.  
Elrohir started to step forward when a hand on his arm stopped him. Elrohir looked at his father, the question showing clearly in his eyes. Elrond just shook his head in reply. The elf lord motioned to the side of the room. Taking the subtle suggestion, the trio moved to the left side of the room away from the doorway, and watched the lady.   
She had just gotten the tray onto her lap and quickly devoured the food. Her tensed back and shoulders and the darting glances at the entranceway told of fear. It saddened the trio to see that she was so afraid of the rules that her old 'lord' had set that she feared to be caught eating.  
Elrohir understood now why his father had stopped him from helping her. Had she realized there was someone else in the room she wouldn't have touched the food. In fact, he was sure if they had entered the room a second later, that she would have spotted them. If that had happened, he was sure that she would have let herself starve. And that knowledge hurt.  
With the last of the food gone, Lillian glanced at the door again, fear darkening her eyes to a to a midnight blue. She wasn't sure what these nobles were going to do to her, she just prayed that the punishment wouldn't be too harsh.   
She was tired. Her body was still weak from the wound she inflicted on herself. That was another thing she didn't understand. Why did they waste the time and effort to save her? She started to return the tray to the table, when two hands took the tray from her. Looking up in alarm she locked glazes with the elf from before.   
"Here, let me help, Lady Lillian." Elrohir whispered softly as he took the tray from her and set it onto the table. Closing her eyes and bowing her head, she cursed her error again. Why didn't she hear him come in?  
Sorrowful eyes studied her. She was waiting to be hit. Gently, taking her left hand, ignoring the way she tensed, he placed a light kiss upon it and said, "I hope you enjoyed your meal, Lady Lillian. But I see your water was spilled. And as you must thirst after such a hearty meal, I shall go get you more."   
Lillian's eyes snapped open, reverting to a storming gray. Why was this noble so nice? Noble don't do such things for servants.  
Elrohir kissed her hand again before he bent down and picked up the fallen goblet, setting it on the tray. Gently smiling at Lillian Elrohir said, "I will be back, my Lady, with your water." And with that he left the room. Nodding to his father at his pointed glaze, Elrohir knew what he wanted.  
She watched him leave and was more confused then she was before. He was so insistent about doing the works of servants. He knew she was a servant and yet he waited on her. He seemed to act nothing like the nobles back home. Of all the rules she had broken thus far, she had received no punishment. She wasn't sure how she was meant to act around him and it scared her.  
"Hello, Lady Lillian." A different voice said to her right. Lillian head snapped to the side, staring at the two figures in shock. Why didn't she hear them come in? How long had they been there? The one who spoke was a 'man' who looked similar to Elrohir, with chestnut hair and brown eyes.   
'Perhaps a brother?' was the thought that came to Lillian frozen mind. The stranger had a golden circlet upon his brow and wore a light gray robe with white embroidery throughout with a midnight blue over robe. Like Elrohir the stranger had fair skin and a youthful appearance. But the powerful aura that surrounded him projected not only kindness but also years of wisdom. It gave the impression that he was older then he looked. The other stranger was an elderly man with a long gray hair and beard. The old man wore a simple gray robe and leaned heavily upon a staff.  
"Lady Lillian, allow me to introduce ourselves." The seemly younger person said, waking Lillian from her shock. Mentally cursing herself she cast her eyes to her hands. "My name is Elrond Halfelvin. I'm am the Lord of Rivendell." Lillian's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. That was Elrohir's father!? But he looked so young! Elrond smiled at the lady's reaction.   
Motioning towards the wizard he continued, "This is Gandalf the Gray." Walking towards the young lady, the Elven lord asked, "My lady, would it be all right if I asked you a few questions?"  
Her eyes clouded in confusion and shock. He was asking permission to question her? He was a noble. A high raking one at that! He didn't need her consent to question her! So why was he asking? Keeping her head bowed, she nodded.  
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, sorrow touched his soul. The girl was hurt deeply; it would take time before she will opened up to anyone. No matter how kind they were. Opening his eyes, Elrond continued.   
"Thank you. However, at any point, if you do not wish to answer, you don't have too. And you may ask any question you might have as well." For what had to be the fourteenth time that day, Lillian felt shock enter her system. Why were the nobles here so different from the ones at home? Why would they care about some lowly servant's feelings? Was this some cruel trick? Or were they really this kind? They seemed sincere…   
Elrond waited a couple seconds to let Lillian adjust, before asking, "Where do you hail from, Lady Lillian?"  
"Rolian" Lillian replied quietly.   
After a quick glanced at Elrond, Gandalf said, "Rolian? Don't you mean Rohan?"  
"No. I mean Rolian." Lillian answered softly, confusion plainly in her voice. "I never heard of Rohan before."  
The elven lord pondered that answer before acting on a hunch. "Have you ever heard of Middle-Earth?"  
"No," was her scared reply.  
Nodding his head slightly, he asked, "What was your world called, Lady Lillian?"  
Her world? Confusion clouded her eyes again, but she answered quickly.   
"Lindreal."  
"Well then, my child, " Elrond said gently, "you are no longer in your world. You are in the lands of Middle-Earth."  
Lillian looked up in shock, not realizing that she had locked glazes with the elven Lord. She was in another world? But how? What would happen to her now? She couldn't go home, even if she wanted too. But the thought of everything that was familiar being gone and replaced by the unfamiliar scared her.  
He could see the fear in her eyes, as could Gandalf.   
"If you cannot send me back," Lillian asked, shaking, "what will you do with me?"  
"You will be a guest of course," Elrond soothed. "You shall stay here in Rivendell as long as necessary."  
Elrohir entered then, humming a merry tune, and holding a large pitcher of cool water. He filled a new goblet and took out a pouch of herbs.  
"This will help with the pain, my Lady." He showed her a small vile of brownish powder. "Add these to your drink in the evening," he flashed a handful of crumpled leaves, "and it will allow you better sleep. But this," he pulled a blooming rose from behind his back, "will make you fall in love with me."  
In the background, Elrond pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "It has to be the human in him."  
"Or," Gandalf interrupted, "it could be his way of socializing the girl." He turned from his old friend and looked at the bed's blushing occupant. "She has long lived with no positive attention, and here, she will be subject to intense curiosity."   
"Regardless, of his intent," the elf lord strode over to the bed. "The Lady has had a trying evening. She must rest and recover."  
"Oh, you never let me have any fun," Elrohir whined. One stern glare later: "Very well." He added the appropriate herbs to Lillian's water, and handed to her. "Drink now, and sleep well."  
Still confused about these strange noble's actions, Lillian nodded. She didn't understand why they wasted such things on her, but had a feeling that they were not taking no for an answer. And slowly, she drank. After the last drop was gone, Lillian could feel her eyes become heavy and the world faded into darkness.  
  
Three days later.   
  
Walking down the halls, Elrohir hummed a merry tune, holding two trays in his hands. Today, his father agreed that Lillian was well enough for small walks, and Elrohir decided to show her around after they had their breakfast. And today will be the first day they would dine together.  
Lillian was afraid to eat in front of a noble, because of the maxims she had ingrained into her. Elrohir understood this. But he was determined to help her overcome that fear. The first day after she had woke up, he just brought her food and left, allowing her to eat alone. But yesterday, he did not. A small smile graced Elrohir's lips as he recalled the day before events.  
~~~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~~   
"Good morning, Lady Lillian." Elrohir said cheerfully as he sat the tray of food across of Lillian's lap.  
Keeping her head bowed, Lillian replied, "Thank you, Lord Elrohir." From the corner of her eyes she watched the strange 'man'; her hands remain resting on the bed. She was waiting for him to leave. Elrohir knew she still feared eating before a noble, but he decided today he was going to help break that fear. Pulling a chair to her bedside, he gracefully plopped sat.   
"It is all right, Lillian. You are allowed to eat in anyone's presence here."  
Lillian shook her head slowly, her hands staying where they were. She still didn't understand this noble. She didn't understand why he was doing this or what his motives were. But she wasn't going to taking chance by breaking the rules she had know thus far in her life.  
Elrohir could see the fear and mistrust in her eyes and it saddened him, but knew she would react this way. It was understandable. In her past she was given no reason to trust nobles.   
A slight smile crossed his lips. He'll just have to prove that he was nothing like those nobles, and he had a good idea on how to do that. Picking up the spoon Elrohir dipped it into the porridge. And, mimicking an up and down pattern, brought it to Lillian's lips cooing, "Open up, horsey coming through."   
His childish speech was so unexpected and so bizarre that Lillian opened her mouth to laugh...only to have the spoon shoved in. She almost choked. Instead, she puffed her cheeks, put both hands over her pursed lips, and concentrated on swallowing.   
"Too hot?" her tormentor asked.   
If she hadn't known he would try the spoon trick again, she would have scolded Elrohir. Instead, she regained her breath, and then promptly turned her face away.  
Elrohir smiled slightly. Her healing had begun. He saw it in her eyes. How they took on the hue of an approaching storm as a spark of anger showed through.   
She had **wanted** to snap at him. And at that moment he thought she would have if he didn't have another spoonful ready. Slapping the hand that held the spoon lightly, Elrohir continued with his charade.   
"Bad horsey. You made Lady Lillian mad. Back to the sables with you."  
Lillian's lips twitched. She didn't understand this noble. But with every passing moment he reminded her more of a little child and little by little her fear of him was fading.   
Elrohir's smile grew at the twitch of her lips as he set the spoon down and picked up an apple slice to hold at her lips.   
"Perhaps little birdie would make Lady Lillian feel better." Her lips twitched, but the girl kept her mouth shut. Pouting, Elrohir continued, "Little birdie just wants to help. Let birdie help. Birdie not like horsey. Birdie will be good."   
He watched the muscles in her throat jump. She was trying not to laugh, and succeeding. The most natural action the children of Iluvatar were capable of, and she controlled it. If he had not known the circumstances of her reserved nature, he would have thought her the best-trained warrior in Middle-earth.  
"Lady Lillian no like birdie? Birdie sad." Elrohir continued cooing, fighting back the urge to laugh, himself. "Birdie just wanted to help" Elrohir made a diving motion with his hand snatching up a small piece of toast. Waving it in front her in facing in flying motions, saying. "Birdie found mousey. Mousey wanted to give you gift. So, good birdie brought nice mousey, which brought you gift. Lady Lillian like nice mousey gift, yes? Birdie was right to bring mousey? Please say birdie did well. Birdie wants to be good."  
"Please, Lord Elrohir," she exclaimed her face still turned. "Do not act so! You are a grown man of Blood, not a child."   
"But I am not a grown man, I am an Elf with countless millennia ahead of me." He picked up the spoon again. "So horsey will be here until the food grows cold."  
"An Elf?" Lillian questioned, confusion coloring her voice. It was harder to see him as a noble as the minutes passed.  
"Ah... There are no elves in your old world, are there?" Elrohir asked as he set the food back on the tray. At Lillian's nod, he continued, "I, my brother, and my father, are all Elves, though is some human blood in our line." Elrohir raised the spoon to her lips once more, continuing his explanation. "Elves are an immortal race. We do not grow old, we do not become ill. In fact there is only two ways we can die, or a fatal wound or grief."  
"But how can griephm!" He put the spoon in her mouth again. As she swallowed, with less fanfare than last time, he gathered his words.   
"Elves feel, _more_, than most humans do. Sometimes when we lose a lover or relation, we stop eating, or find other ways to destroy ourselves."  
'_Like me,'_ thought Lillian. Still thinking, she didn't even notice when Elrohir shoved more porridge into her mouth.  
  
~~~~~~End Flashback~~~~~~  
  
Walking into Lillian's room, Elrohir called out cheerfully, "Good morning, Lady Lillian!" Groaning, Lillian threw the blankets over her head. Ever since, yesterday's events, she had started to become her own person.   
Lillian didn't really trust him. But after his childish antics yesterday, she stopped fearing him. But only him. Around anyone else she reverted back to the timid, scared girl she was when she first came to this world.  
After setting the trays on the table, Elrohir walked to the bed, pulling the blankets off, saying, "No, time to hide today! Its time to get up. We have a lot to do." Ignoring her intelligible mumble, Elrohir scooped her into his arms, effectively waking her.  
She buried her head in her hands. "Please, Lord Elrohir. Do not trouble yourself."   
"Trouble?" Elrohir repeated, while walking toward the table. "It is no trouble. I quite enjoy carrying such a lovely lady around."  
"My Lord," she almost whined. "Do you not have more important duties as the son of the regional Lord?"  
"None that Elladan cannot perform," he sang smugly. Lillian groaned as Elrohir sat her in a chair. Grinning, Elrohir sat in his own seat and said; "Now I suggest we eat up. Father, finally consented that you were healed enough to be walking around and I plan on giving you a tour of my home."   
Lillian looked up, her eyes locking with those of Elrohir's in shock and fear, before bowing her head and dropping her eyes to the table in shame. Though, Elrohir was different from the nobles from home. He was still a noble. And servants are not to meet their eyes. Sighing, Elrohir said soothingly, "It is all right Lillian. No one here will hurt you. The rules you use to know don't exist here." Tipping her chin upward he looked in her eyes, slightly disappointed that she kept her glazed on the table, "And you can meet my eyes if you so wish."   
Lillian's eyes went wide. No matter how many kind things Elrohir did for her, she was still surprised.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Three hours later.  
  
His home was beautiful. Lillian had not seen anything like it before in her life. Rivendell was very different from her old home. The city itself truly blended with its surroundings; as if it had been here for ages and would always remain so.   
_'And it very well could ,'_ Lillian reflected. _'It's inhabits are immortal creatures.' _  
That was another concept that she had trouble grasping. Back in her world there had been no immortal beings. People lived and people died, that was the way of life. The one all encompassing law. Not even the King could escape it, yet these elves did.   
No, they could die, Elrohir had explained that. But … the thought of living forever without aging or illnesses still sent her mind reeling. She couldn't image living such a life. Yes, the prospect was appealing, the thought of having the time to do everything one wanted too, but in the end it seemed like a curse to her. To be the same while everything else changed around them. Lillian didn't understand how they could live such a life without becoming bitter.  
And yet, from what she as seen, the elves did manage to do just that. They seemed to be happy, caring souls baring many years of wisdom. Though, in Elrohir's case, retaining a childishness even into the adult years.  
That was another topic that Lillian was curious about. How old was Elrohir? And how do elves age? Did they reach a point where they stopped aging? How long do the elves stay children?   
But she would not question Elrohir. It was not her place to do so. Back home, questioning a noble was punishable by death. This place may not have the same restrictions of her world did, but she didn't know where these new boundaries lay.  
Elrohir smiled at Lillian's reaction to his home. He could tell that she was amazed by the sparkle in her eyes. She was slowly becoming less timid, and more sure as the days progressed. Three days were not enough to heal a lifetime of pain, but it was a start.   
The first time they meet she was afraid of doing anything for fear of punishment. Now, after much coaxing, she started to come out of the shell. She wasn't as afraid to talk to him; but she still chose to remain in silence most of the time. He could see a curious gleam in her eyes now. Lillian's emotion showed clearly in her eyes. But she kept her questions unspoken.   
She was healing, but it would take more then him to reassure her that she could be herself. Looking out towards the garden Elrohir saw two hobbits walking towards them and idea struck him. Walking towards the hobbits, he called out to them.  
"Good morning Masters Merry and Pippin. How are you this fair day?"  
"Good morning, Lord Elrohir. We're heading inside to see if we get some second breakfast." Replied one of the hobbits happily. He jerked his companion around to look at Lillian, exclaiming, "Look, Merry. It the girl we found outside of Rivendell."  
"I know, Pippin." The other hobbit said, before he turned to Lillian and bowed. "Hello miss. I am Meriadoc Brandybuck, but please called me Merry. The diminutive orc to by right is Peregin Took…"  
"Call me Pippin," he said hitting Merry in the head. "What's your name."  
"Lillian." She answered softly as her thoughts raced. Hobbits? What was a Hobbit? How many races existed in this strange world?  
Elrohir could see the confusion in her eyes and explained, "Hobbits are an agricultural people from the West. They are also known as halflings or shire-folk." Turning to the hobbits he continued to explain. "Lady Lillian is not from this world. She is from a land called Lindreal. She is still adjusting to the cultural differences." Seeing Pippin was about to ask a question, Elrohir interrupted, "And no, we do not know how to return her to her world yet." Pippin looked up at Elrohir in surprise.   
"How did you know I was going to ask that?" Shrugging, Elrohir smiled.   
"A hunch." Turning his attention back to Lillian, Pippin exclaimed, "You can have second breakfast with us! We can tell you all about Hobbits and the Shire!"   
Lillian was overwhelmed. Ever since she had arrived in this world she had been confused. Nothing was the same here and all the contradictions were giving her a headache. She didn't know what to make of these Hobbits, though they seemed friendly. But appearances could be deceiving…  
Head slightly bowed, Lillian stared at her hands. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to act, but they were waiting for a reply. But… What to say?  
"What is a second breakfast?" Lillian questioned softly.  
Pippin stared at her in horror, "You don't know about second breakfast?" At Lillian shook her head no he continued, "What about elevenses?" Again Lillian shook her head, more confused then before. "Luncheon?"   
"No." Lillian replied. If it was possible, more shock entered Pippin face as he continued questioning.   
"Afternoon tea?" Lillian, again, shook her head.   
"Dinner? Supper?"  
Shaking her head, Lillian explained, "No. Back home I only had one meal a day."   
The three males stared at her, and again, Elrohir felt anger towards those responsible for her suffering. But before he could think farther on it, Pippin exclaimed,   
"Merry, she doesn't know how to eat! How can one live on one meal a day?"  
"I don't know Pip." Stepping towards Lillian, Merry requested, "Allow us to introduce you to Hobbit culture."   
Not wanting to upset these beings, Lillian nodded.  
"Great. Off to the kitchens we go." Pippin exclaimed, before asking, "Um ... where are the kitchens?"  
Smiling Elrohir smiled, "I can lead you there."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Several hours later, a smiling Elrohir carried a sleeping Lillian back to her room. The hobbits were a great help in her healing. Their fun loving personalities allowed her to relax. He also noticed when she discovered that neither held the title 'lord' that she to talked more eagerly. She would need to spend more time with them.  
Entering her room, Elrohir laid her down on the bed before existing the room to call a maid. Standing outside the room he waited patently while the maid prepared Lillian for bed. After a couple of minutes the maid left the room, giving the OK to enter.  
As he reentered the room, he smiled at the sleeping figure dressed in white. She must have been exhausted. But he half expected that. For she had a tiring day and was still recovering from her past wound.  
Tomorrow, she would dine with everyone else at breakfast. She was scared of doing so, he saw it in her eyes when she told him, but she would be all right. No one here would hurt her. And deep inside her there laid a strength that had long since been buried. He could feel it. Elrohir just was not sure how to bring it out.  
Gently, he tucked the sleeping woman in with a kiss on the forehead and a whispered, "Goodnight."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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	4. Chapter 4: The day the elves forget thei...

Disclaimer: And I still own nothing! 

I like to thank all the people who reviewed! So, a big thank you to **Just2spooky, Yuki, Celeste Moonstone, hazelhorse, LalaithoftheBruinen, **and** Lady Beriaron**.

I also like to thank Phoenix for the help she gave me this chapter. By the way, can anyone tell me exactly what makes a character a Mary Sue? I'll have to admit that my definition of a Mary Sue is a little hazy. 

Thanks!!

Now, I'll shut up and let you read.

See ya!

-Lady Healer

Chapter 4: The day the elves forget their grace. 

              
Lillian awoke from her slumber with a slight smile. Yesterday was one of the most interesting days of her life, but also the most stressful. The Hobbits were amazing creatures. It seem as if each race on this strange world was different in their own special way.   
  It took her awhile to get use to the different physical characteristic that the hobbits had, from the hairy feet to the large ears. And from what she had seen of them thus far, the hobbits were joyous beings with a strong love for food. Lillian still didn't quite understand how such small beings could eat so much.   
  And how they could talk! She was amazed at how long they could speak on one subject alone. Their favorite topic so far was the proper way to drink ale at some Green Dragon inn. The love of their home and families showed clearly in their voice and eyes. And it touched Lillian. It was nice to see people happy for a change.   
And Lillian wished that she could be more like these fascinating beings. But fear had been deeply implanted in her. She yearned to be her own person with all her heart; to live life like she choose. To talk and discuss any and every topic with anyone who would listen. But her blood father took that dream away. Perhaps, in this world she would finally get the chance to live as she wished.  
But she was afraid. For the last eleven years she labored to go unnoticed. Being seen in her home world hurt. But as the days past that old fear was starting to slip away. The nobles in this world had been nothing but nice to her. But she had only met a few nobles in this world so far, and just because some were nice didn't mean all them were. And, she still had to be sure that these nobles meant what they said. Back in her world, nobles would put up charades to gain what they wanted.   
But… Lillian's thoughts continued as she rose out of bed, ignoring the twinge of pain. These nobles had no reason to do such a thing, did they? From what she had observed of the Elves she had met, they were truly caring souls. But, a handful of days was not enough to judge a race, much less trust them. She was still wary of what these nobles would do to her. However, with every day she was around this mystical race, that dread was slowly slipping away.   
Lillian stopped before a gown laid across the dressing table. It was breathtaking. A simple baby blue gown with butterfly sleeves and navy blue embroidery decorating the v-shape neckline and empire waistline. Lillian still didn't understand why these people treated her like they did.   
Like she was an equal.   
Beside the dress was a note. Lillian was glad that she had been taught how to read and write. In her blood father's home, it was forbidden for servants to read or be found writing. Lillian suspected her blood father feared that if servants communicated through the written word they would incite one of his enemies to rise against him. Tyrants always had an enemy. Or perhaps the fear was that the servants themselves would find a loophole in the laws and overthrow him.   
One of those loopholes was her. After all, she was of blood. And any one of blood was a threat to Kalin's rule. It was common knowledge that he had ordered to have her killed at birth. Yet, six years later he merely forced her into servitude. Why? Did he believe that by breaking her spirit the threat of her Claim would disappear?  
Whatever his reasoning, this strange world elicited a new hope. Lillian's walls had begun to crumble. And the reason started with Elrohir.   
There was no romance between them, Lillian knew that. They were strangers and people don't fall in love at first glance. But when she stopped fearing him, she started to feel safe around him. Part of the reason was that it was getting harder to see him as a noble as the days passed. But the main reason was he reminded her of Galen. The palace guard; a flirt, a charlatan, but who did everything that he could to help the servants. In her blood father's home he was one of the few people she would trust with her life.   
Lillian just prayed that he was all right.  
Shaking her head to clear it, Lillian set the note back on the table before heading to the side room where her bath was ready.  
  


* * * * *   
  


    Two hours later, Lillian stood dressed in the new gown her waist length hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, ready to go to breakfast. Well, she looked ready. Inside she was a nervous wreck. Yesterday had been the first day she was allowed to get out of her bed to move around, but she still ate her meals in private.   
Today, she was to dine with everyone else, and she was not sure how she was supposed to act. Back home a servant was never allowed to dine with the nobles. But it seemed that many bylaws that existed in Kalin's court, were not enforced. After four days, Lillian still wasn't sure of the rules in this strange place. And that made her uncomfortable and scared.   
A knock at the door interrupted, her thoughts. Taking a calming breath, Lillian opened the door.  
"Good Morning, Lady Lillian." Elrohir replied cheerfully.   
"Good morning, Lord Elrohir." Lillian replied softly.  
"Shall we go to breakfast?" Seeing her small nod, Elrohir started out. "By the way, Lady Lillian, you look stunning today." A blush on Lillian's cheeks was her only answer.  
  


* * * *  


Ten minutes later, as they approached the High Table where Elrond and his family dined, Elrohir placed Lillian's hand in the crook of his arm. She looked up at him with fright, careful to avoid eye contact, and he squeezed her fingers.   
"It is proper and right for a Lady to be escorted to her seat." She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Gandalf still wearing his gray robe.   
"It is good to see you again, Lady Lillian," he rumbled. "We have been eager to talk with you."  
"I did not mean to be late." Lillian dropped her eyes before she could take in the rest of his features.   
"You are not late, Child." The man waved his hand in dismissal. She did not see the amusement that sparkled in his eyes. "You have been injured, and were not allowed to be tormented by an Old Fool."   
"Elrohir," an agitated voice said. "Stop monopolizing the human and introduce her." Lillian glanced at this new voice, and stopped dead. It was another Elrohir. If this one was anything like the original, she would never have a moment's peace.   
"Patience brother, patience." Elrohir said as he escorted Lillian to the table. The mischief in his eyes shined brightly as he continued. "I understand that you are jealous of such beautiful company; but if everyone will sit down, I will introduce this lovely lady." Elladan rolled his eyes at his brother's antics, but smiled at the lady while taking his seat. It was obvious that she was scared, and it warmed his heart to see that his brother was making the effort to help her relax, even if in his own crazy way of it.   
After everyone had taken his or her seat, Elrohir introduced Lillian. "Ladies and Gentlemen. It is my pleasure to introduce to you, Lillian, daughter of Lylia." Elrohir pulled out Lillian's chair and assisted her in sitting down as he continued the introductions. "Lady Lillian as you already know, the elf at the head of the table, is my good Father: Elrond Halfelvin, Lord of Rivendell. To his right is my twin, Elladan. Unfortunately he didn't take after my personality." Lillian sighed in relief, bringing chuckles to those around. Lillian cringed at the attention; instead she focused her attention to Elrohir.   
"Next to my boring brother, is my sister Arwen, beside her is the love her life, Aragorn of Gondor." At Aragorn and Arwen's look of horror he replied in monotone. "Brother, sister. Father knew since the first time you made eyes at each other." Lillian bit her lip to keep from laughing while everyone else chuckled at the couple's blush. "Next to Aragorn is Glorfindel and the love of his life ..." Elrohir trailed off at Glorfindel's glare. Shrugging Elrohir replied, "Well, no one really knows..." Bending down he whispered in her ear, "It is his horse, Asfaloth. So far, no maiden has swayed his heart." Pointedly ignoring Glorfindel's glare, he straightened and continued his introductions.   
"Beside him, is Leggy..." Elrohir trailed off again at Legolas's glare and then continued with mock innocence, "I forgot, he doesn't like that nickname. You see he received that name during his childhood when..."  
"Elrohir." Legolas interrupted sharply, an unsaid warning in his voice.  
"Right, shutting up." Elrohir said quickly, mocking like one in fright. Turning towards Lillian he wink and said, "I'll tell you the story later, when Leggy is not around to interrupt."  
Rubbing his forehead, Legolas muttered, "Elrohir ... what did I do to be cursed with a friend like you?"  
"You were born," Elrohir replied without missing a beat, causing chuckles around the table. "Anyway, Leggy's real name is Legolas Greenleaf. He's the Prince of Mirkwood. He has a wonderful sense of humor, which is probably the only reason I'm not dead yet." When Lillian looked up at him in alarm, catching his eyes, Elrohir winked. "But he is a good friend. One of the best I have, in fact. Even when he pushed me into a mud hole a hundred years ago and I had to wait three days before I could get to a stream to wash up." Elrohir crinkled his noise at the memory while the table irrupted in laughter.   
Legolas grinned mirthfully and said, "Not to mention the time by the lake when I...."  
Looking up sharply, Elrohir interrupted "Don't you dare, Legolas..." Stopping in mid sentence when a thought struck him. Elrohir grinned. "Never mind. Continue on with your story..." Looking at him suspiciously, Legolas opened his mouth to continue when Elrohir interrupted, smiley sweetly, "If you want me to tell the Ladies about Mirkwood and our seven hundreds." Closing his mouth Legolas sent Elrohir a glare, before he smiled to himself and muttered, "I'll let the bout go to you this time, Elrohir. Valar knows you need it." Elrohir waved his hand in dismissal.   
"No, I don't. I'm only ten points behind. I am catching up and will soon surpass you if you do not keep on your toes, Leggy."  
Glaring, once more, Legolas asked, "When will you stop calling me by that accursed name?" Plopping into his seat with grace, Elrohir answered smugly.  
"Never." Legolas groaned while the others chuckled. "Besides it is Aragorn who needs the extra help." Leaning back in his seat Elrohir asked, "What are the currant scores?"  
Thinking for a moment, Legolas answered, "I am in the lead with 230 points. As you already stated, Elrohir, you are 10 points behind with 220. Elladan is third, 218, and Aragorn is last with 210."   
"You're falling behind, Estel. You used to lead this competition, little brother. Not losing your touch, now are we?" Elrohir commented before eating a slice of apple.  
"If I am losing my touch, brother…" Aragorn started with a raise eyebrow, "then why is there a pink bow in your hair?"   
Shaking his head, Elrohir replied, "Nice try, Estel. You had not the opportunity. I will not fall for your bluff."   
Smiling, Aragorn leaned back, countering easily, "I am not bluffing? I may not have had the opportunity, but my allies certainly did."   
"Allies?" Looking around the table, Elrohir noticed two people returning to their seats, Arwen and his beloved Father. Slowly Elrohir reached up, feeling his head and then with a swift tug, brought the bow unraveling from his hair.   
Nodding to his brother, he said, "Well done, Estel. Two points I believe are in order. One point for this little trinket and another for the flowers in Legolas's hair. Who was the culprit?"   
Legolas's eyes widen slightly as he yanked the white lilies out of his hair.   
"Who," he demanded.   
"The flowers were mine." Glorfindel stated.   
Sighing, Legolas muttered, "No wonder I didn't notice. I was too busy watching Lady Arwen and Lord Elrond." Smirking, Legolas commented, "By the way, Elladan, the bow in your hair matches your brother's nicely."  
Groaning, Elladan swiftly removed the offending object from his hair, muttering, "Ada, you traitor."   
"Which then, leaves Arwen responsible for my own decoration." Elrohir said. Arwen smiled and nodded while Elrohir continued talking. "Which is another point for Estel. However, because of agreement, he gains ten points for each ally. Which means he earned a total of 33 points, putting him at 243 and back in the lead."   
"Brother, just wait until your next birthday," Elrohir warned. "I will have a new way of waking you at unearthly hours."   
Resting his forehead in his hand, Aragorn muttered, "Dear Valar, someone save me." Chuckles followed the statement.   
"I would brother…." Elladan teased "but I'm still trying to save myself."  
Holding a hand to his heart, Elrohir mocked, "Brothers, you wound me so with your words. My heart shall forever hurt with the pain." Chuckles followed his statement.  
"Oh, and I forgot about the old wizard to your right, Lady Lillian. As you already know, he is Gandalf the Gray. I would tell you some very interesting things about him, but I do not feel like becoming a frog today." During the accompanying laughter, Elrohir leaned towards Lillian and whispered into her ear, "Beside there are none to be told."  
Lillian lips twitched in amusement. She was amazed at the atmosphere; she had never seen such light heartiness. Back home, the only conversation among the aristocracy was made of insults and arguments. Her mental barrier was far from cracking, but she felt contentment now. She might finally be able to have freedom. She would still have to learn their rules. Lillian understood that. If she didn't, then the little freedom she had might be taken away. As nice as these people were, she didn't know them and had been hurt too many times to trust blindly.   
"Lady Lillian, what do you think of your stay in Rivendell? My brother hasn't been bothering you too much, has he?" asked Elladan a slight teasing note at the end.  
Swallowing a bite a food, Lillian replied, quietly, "It has been very pleasant, Lord Elladan, and no, Lord Elrohir has been very helpful." Lillian could feel everyone's eyes on her and she shifted uncomfortably. She knew they were curious about her, and rightly so. She was a stranger in their home after all. But she still wished that she could disappear from sight. Seeing her discomfort, Elrohir decided to step in.   
"A bother? Really Elladan, you should know better than that."   
"We do, Elrohir." Interrupted Glorfindel. "That why we asked."   
"I cannot help myself," he said with great flair. "Whenever I am in the company of a beauteous woman," he leaned over to Lillian, "I inevitably play the scoundrel." This statement was followed by the expected blush. If it were possible, the former servant shrank even further into herself.   
"Elrohir," Legolas warned, dangerously close to uncivil. "*That is enough*," he said in Elvish.   
"You needn't be so rough with me," he laughed, leaning over the table. Elrohir knew he needed help. He and the Hobbits were helping Lillian to open up, but it was not enough.   
Legolas would be one of the best suited. But Elrohir needed to inform him of the situation and discuss it with him. And it would be much easier to do without his father's interference. But to have that happen they needed to speak privately, well, his brother could come along. So he reached for his wine goblet while locking glances with Legolas trying to converse with him silently. And then with a silent '*Forgive me*' and a quick glance to his twin he 'accidentally' knocked the goblet over.   
For a moment, time stood still and Legolas could see the red liquid flying towards him. And then it splashed against his face. It ran down his neck, and into his fine gray tunic. He noticed absently, that the wine had been chilled before serving. He pursed his mouth for a moment. And then, he became almost as angry with Elrohir as he was at himself for not dodging.   
"Elrohir, Elladan. May I speak with you two, in private?" Legolas said while wiping his face. His tone of voice revealed that it was a command, not a request.   
Without missing a beat, Elrohir replied cheerfully, "Oh course, my friend." Turning to the side he sent Lillian a warm smile. His smile widen when he saw her lips twitched from silent laughter. Grabbing her right hand he raised it to his lips, saying, "My lady. Please honor me and wait here while I deal with this jealous elf." Ignoring Legolas's glare, he kissed Lillian's hand. He was pretty sure if looks could kill that he would be six feet under. 'Ah, the joys of life of having the son of Thranduil mad at you. He has his father's temper all right.' Elrohir watched Lillian shake her head before her mouth opened, only to snap shut.   
With a soothing voice, Elrohir said, "You can speak your mind, Lady Lillian. You do not need permission. Now what were you going to say." From the corner of his eye, Elrohir could see part of Legolas's anger melting to confusion as the girl bowed her head.  
"He is angry with you, not jealous, my lord," Lillian whispered softly. "I don't want you to be hurt." Tipping her chin up with a finger, Elrohir looked into her sad, scared eyes and cursed himself. He should have found another way to get Legolas to talk to him. Maybe this event will work out for the best. She will discover that not all people were like her former 'master.'   
"Why do you think I will be hurt, Lady Lillian," he asked, although he already knew the answer. Her eyes drifted to the side of his face as Lillian focused on his ear.   
"I have seen that look upon many a man's face before, Lord Elrohir." He smiled at her concern.   
"Legolas is a Prince of Mirkwood. He would not sink to blows with me over something so trivial." Not convinced, but rather trained she nodded.   
"I shall await your return, then, my lord." Raising her hand to his lips once more, he placed a gentle kiss upon it and replied, "Thank you my lady. And worry not. All will be well, you will see." Releasing her hand he turned towards his brother and friends. "Let us go to the library to hold this discussion." With a slight nod of agreement the trio left the room.   
"Lillian, what was your home like?" Arwen asked in the new silence. She was curious about the new stranger from the world known as Lindreal.   
"Miserable." Lillian replied softly, as she started to retreat into herself. Though, surprise at her answered the companions at the table began a conversation, and every once in a while asked Lillian her opinion. An as the talk lengthen, Lillian stopped retreating and begin to slowly beginning to the discussion herself.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Twenty minutes later in the library the trio of elves sat around the table. Leaning back in his chair, Legolas crossed his arm across his bare chest, his tunic resting in a heap on the table.   
"You want me to help you with Lady Lillian," he mumbled. "To progress her healing? That's fine. But you do realize that this might have the opposite affect. Instead of helping she may retreat further."   
"I am willing to risk that," Elrohir said simply. "Quite frankly, I don't see what damage any of us could be worse than what her manner tells me she has seen."   
"She has not spoken of her experiences then?" Elladan murmured.   
"No." Elrohir said. "I fear that will be her most difficult obstacle."   
Studying his brother, Elladan commented, "You believe that there is something that in her past that she doesn't want to admit?" Elrohir nodded.   
"I do. I have tried to engage her in a conversation about her family. She avoids talking about her father, as if she fears punishment." The three sat in silence, mulling over what they knew. Finally, a low growl of frustration pierced the air.  
"Agh," Elladan grumbled. "How does one heal the mind? We know how to heal the body, but the mind, and the soul..." He drifted off, pinching his nose.  
"Language," the Prince of Mirkwood answered after a long pause. "She must unburden her mind through that. But how can she do so," he continued, "if she fears the very beings that wish to help her?"   
"Perhaps," Elrohir grinned, "the Hobbits."   
Raising an eyebrow, Legolas questioned, "What about the hobbits?"

        Slightly smiling at the memory, Elrohir answered him. "Yesterday, Lillian met Pippin and Merry. It was they that made her 'come out of her shell.' "   
"How so?" Questioned Elladan.  
"She brightened almost immediately when she discovered that they didn't have the title 'lord.'" Elrohir answered. Sighing, Legolas uncross his armed and looked to Elrohir.   
"If that is true, then I may not be much use. You already introduced me as a prince. Thus she knows my title and her ingrained fears might not let me help her. I ask you, Elrohir, what do you want me to do?"  
"Just be your normal self. Only, try not to let the Lady fall for your youthful charm," a smirk grew across his face. "We want her to be comfortable around the nobility, not overcome."  
Legolas just rolled his eyes.

_________________________

Like? Hate? Let me know!  Please!


	5. Chapter 5: The council of Elrond aka the...

Disclaimer: Own nothing.

**Lady Beriaron: **_Thanks!_

**Hazelhorse:**  _Thanks! I'm glad you have been enjoying the story. And don't worry; I plan on writing until the story is finish._

**Lil Kawaii doom:** _Don't worry; there will be more hobbits scenes._****

_Well, I hope you enjoy the chapter!_

_See ya!_

_-Lady Healer._

Chapter 5: The council of Elrond a.k.a. the predictable chapter. 

It had been a week since the commotion at the breakfast, and Lillian was beginning to enjoy her life in this strange world. The nobles still unnerved her with their kindness, but the fear she once held for them so strongly was fading to a light tremble.  
  


    And the world of Middle-Earth she found fascinating. All the different cultures and races were simply amazing. It was the day after she was started to dine with everyone that she began to truly learn about the world she was now in.   
  


           It was during a stroll through the gardens that she met the prince of Mirkwood again. She was alone on her walk because Elrohir had to complete a task of his Father's. At first, she was afraid to be in the price's presence without the company of Elrohir. The anger that she saw in him during that first breakfast was still fresh in her mind.   
  


But the emotion faded against his friendly manner. He slowly drew her from her shell with tales of this world. Lord Legolas told her about the difference races of Middle-earth, both the good and the evil ones, and about some of the history behind each.   
  


She learned about the different kingdoms of this world. Of the Elvish and the Dwarven kingdoms and the two kingdoms of men: Gondor and Rohan. The kingdom of Rohan interested her. The land most famous for its horses. Lillian had never ridden a horse in her life. Servants were not allowed to. Lillian wasn't sure if she really wanted to ride, but she did think it would be amazing to see how they trained their horses.  
  


Legolas also told her of the Dwarves, and Lillian could have sworn that she heard a slight note of contempt in his voice. But she did recognize a look of hatred that was carefully concealed in his features when he spoke of orcs. After a brief discussion about said creatures, she could understand why he felt such disgust. Lillian just hoped that she would never meet any orcs while in this world.  
  


Thanks to Legolas and the hobbits the week passed quickly. But in that week, she met some other nobles from the places that the prince had mentioned. One of the nobles she met was Lord Boromir of Gondor. If she had heard correctly he was the son of a steward. And from what she remembered of a conversation with Prince Legolas, he was also the current power in Gondor. She had only met him once, but Lillian did have a handful of times to observed him. He seemed proud. Nice, but very proud.   
  


The other two nobles she had met were a pair of Dwarf lords. Gimli and his father, Gloin. She didn't know what to make of Dwarfs. Though they were polite when she met them, she noticed that they were at conflict with their elvin hosts. Lillian was well aware that different peoples often harbored hatred for each other, but this was ... cold.   
  


One night she had asked one of the servers after the meal if the Dwarves were warring with the Elves. The boy had blinked and replied, "Of course, they're Dwarves. They cannot do else but mine and make war."   
  


But today she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. She was 'invited' to a council with the rest of the nobles. But why? She was a person of no importance. And according to Elrohir, this was a meeting of great concern. So much in fact that it was meant to be a secret. And Lillian could only guess at what was to be discussed at the council, Elrohir would not tell her! Instead he told her some of the history of Middle-earth. More specifically about a war with a dark lord name Sauron.   
  


Before he left her to prepare for bed she asked him why she was invited to this important meeting. The only answer that she received was that everything would be revealed at the council. However, throughout the meeting, Lillian had a feeling that Elrohir was upset about something. But she did not question him about it. It was not her place to do so.  
  


So minutes later, Elrohir escorted her to her seat in the circle of chairs before taking his place by his father.   
  
* * * * *  
  
  


Elrohir didn't understand his father's decision about Lillian. She was just a wounded child lost in a world of strangers. How was she supposed to aid the quest? She had no weapons training, Elrohir was sure of that. If his father continued with this decision, it might cause her to retreat further within herself. Lillian won't understand, Elrohir felt confident in that belief. His father's decision would seem a betrayal to her. They promised that she could remain here as long as she needed, and now his father was going to send her off a journey that could claim her life.   


It was two days ago that he had overheard his father holding a discussion in his study. And anger still coursed through him at the thought of that conversation.  
  
                                                *******************Flashback**************  
  
       It was a peaceful evening and he was walking to his father's study to discuss an idea that he believed the other could help with. But upon hearing someone mention his young charge, Elrohir stopped, his hand raised to knock at the door when his father said, "I believe Lillian may have a part to play in the destruction of the ring."  


Elrohir's mind raced and his insides froze. Surely his father was not suggesting what he thought he was… He wouldn't…. She was just a child! A very hurt child. He had to have heard wrong. His father may be a Lord, but he was also a healer. He would not send a wounded girl on such a task during a critical point of her healing.  
  


 But his fears were confirmed when he heard Glorfindel's voice. "How can you be sure that the Valar meant her to be part of the quest? What if she was just meant to be brought here to heal?" 

Elrohir's eyes closed as his hand lowered, waiting for the answer that he was sure his father was going to give. "The timing is too close. Would she be brought here at this peculiar moment if she was only sent to regain herself?" The younger elf listened to their conversation for hours before he finally decided he had heard enough. The quest was too dangerous for her. She knew nothing of how to defend herself. The journey would be the death of her. Sharply, Elrohir knocked on the door before entering, not bothering to wait for his father's permission. And with a steady glare on each, he asked to speak to his father in private.  
  
****************End Flashback*******************  
  
       But talking to his father didn't help. No matter what argument Elrohir brought up his father countered it. Elrohir had forgotten how good his father was at debates. The only one that could defeat his father in a debate within the first minute was his mother. And Elrohir had the suspicion that was because she threatened to make his father sleep alone for a few centuries.   
  


Elrohir missed his mother's presence. She would have been a welcome help in this matter. He smiled thinking of the day he could see her again in the Gray Havens. But that day would have to wait. His heart still lingered in the lands of Middle-earth.  


Seeing his father about to start the meeting, Elrohir focus his attention and cleared his mind of past events.  
"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old…" Elrond started to say as his gazed wondered across the room, studying each member. "You've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands on the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."   A small hobbit rose from his chair and placed the ring on a small stone table. And again, Lillian wondered why she was here.   


"So it is true." Boromir whispered.   


 Lillian turned her attention to the noble from Gondor. And shuddered when she heard the chilling hiss, 'the Doom of Man' from the ring. At that point Lillian's doubts about the powers of the ring faded. In those few words, Lillian felt a dark emptiness fill her very being, and it chilled her to her soul. Faintly she could hear Boromir beginning his speech.   "It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor." Standing, Boromir continued his speech, "Why not use it."  


Lillian stared at the plain golden band, fear constricting her throat. The ring played a game she knew all too well. It was the same the nobles of her world enjoyed. The thought froze her in her seat. Frozen as she was, Lillian forgot the bonds of her world for a moment.   "It is no gift, it is a curse." Her words brought the gazes of the Elves to her, but she was oblivious to them. Her attention was focused on the ring. A wariness of it grew stronger in her as each moment passed.

Boromir, not having heard her, continued with his speech. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor…" Boromir glanced at those around him as he paced the courtyard, "kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people…" He glanced around the room again, "are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him."  


In the brief silence, Lillian ignored the bylaws of her world. No matter the punishment that she may receive because of it. They couldn't make the same mistakes that the people of her world made. They couldn't!   All this happiness would be lost if it did. And with a firm voice that belied her feelings she said, "It would not help. It cares not what happens to this world as long as it reaches it's own end. Don't you see? It is a curse, not a gift. It lays quiet to fool those around it until its goal is accomplished."   


"Lady Lillian is right." Aragorn agreed, before adding. "You cannot wield it. None of us can. The one Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."  


 Glancing at Lillian before he turned his attention to Aragorn, Boromir accused, "And what would a girl and a Ranger know of this matter?"  


Jumping up from his seat, Legolas glared at Boromir and stated, "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." Lillian eyes widened in surprised at the news as Boromir gaped in disbelief.   


"Aragorn. This is Isildurs's heir?"  


 "And heir to the throne of Gondor." Finished Legolas.   


With a jester, Aragorn said, "Havo dad (sit down), Legolas." Returning to his seat, Boromir sneered once more.   


 "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king."   


Lillian studied Aragorn from her seat. During the short time she had known him, he proved to be a kind soul, even if he had too many names. So far she had heard four different names used in reference to him. It was becoming slightly confusing. But if he was truly a king, then why was he not ruling his kingdom?  


 During her musing Lillian missed both the speeches and exclamation from the wizard, elf-lord, and a dwarf. But her attention returned abruptly when a flying shard of an ax landed near her chair. Looking up sharply, she noticed Gimli laying on the floor, his eyes widened in surprise.  


Elrond looked at the dwarf sternly and said, "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin … by any craft that we here possess." Slowly the elf-lord looked around the council while continuing his speech. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor…" Elrond pause a moment, his glazed stopping on Lillian, "and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you … must do this."  


A look of despair and disbelief came across Boromir face as he said, "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. " Making a sign with a hand, Boromir continued, "The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland … riddled with fire, and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with 10,000 men could you do this. It is folly."  


Boromir's words repeated in Lillian's head and all others words being spoken faded from her mind. How could an evil be so powerful that it only had one way of destroying it? Lillian felt sorry for the poor soul that had to brave such dangers to complete the task.  


 And minutes later a voice entered Lillian's clouded mind. "I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though… I do not know the way." Lillian looked down in shock at Frodo. He seemed frightened; yet, he would stand up and face those challenges, the very dangers that lay ahead just because the others would not agree among themselves. Why?  


 "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggains … as long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf said as he stepped behind the small hobbit.  


"If by my life or death I can protect you…" Aragorn said as he kneeled in front of the hobbit. "I will. You have my sword." He finished his oath, taking his placed on the other side of the Frodo.  


Walking to the other side of Gandalf, Legolas stated, "And you have my bow."  


"And my ax!" Gimli said, glaring at the elf before taking a stand beside him.  
  


Stepping towards the small group, Boromir commented, "You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the council…" Looking around with a glance, he took his spot in the small group, "then Gondor will see it done."  


A rustle of bushes drew the attention of the council as a small hobbit came rushing out and took the spot beside Frodo exclaiming, "Frodo's not going anywhere without me."   


Amusement showed in Elrond's eyes as he replied, "Indeed it is hardly possible to separate you…even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not."  


"We're coming too!" Merry exclaimed as he and Pippin came running up to the group, Elrond watched them in disbelief. "You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"  


"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of…mission. Quest. Thing." Looking at Pippin in amusement, Merry commented, "Well, that rules you out, Pip." Pippin nodded in agreement before Merry's words clicked in his mind and he stared at his cousin in mild anger.  


Lillian shook her head. These types of people were rare or at least they are in her world. They knew the dangers of the journey they were about to leave on, yet, they volunteered anyway. And the friendship between the hobbits warmed her heart. Perhaps, this world was truly different from hers.   


Lillian's musing was cut short as Elrond began to speak once more, "Very well, you shall be the fellowship of the ring. However. I shall make one addition." Between the pause, Elrohir closed his eyes, wishing that his father would not go through with it. "Lady Lillian shall join you."  


The girl froze at those words. The Lord wanted her to go on a quest? A quest that was filled with danger, a journey that may mean the death of her and others around her. But why? She didn't know how to fight. She would be a burden to them.   


Several arguments irrupted in the council room, but no words reached the frozen mind of Lillian. The words of Boromir and Elrohir echoed in her head. Their words of the past war with Sauron and of the present dangers.   


She couldn't go on this journey. It would be her death. Was that why the Lord of Rivendell wanted her to go? Because he wanted her gone? But he seem so nice… And with her thoughts racing through her panic mind, Lillian did the only thing she could.   
She ran.   


 Elrohir's sad brown eyes watched as the lost girl ran from the halls, knowing that her progress towards happiness was as equally lost.

_********************_

_Like? Hate? _

_Personally, I thought this chapter was a little boring…But have no fear, the next chapter will make up for it in spades. Trust me. ;)_

_Well, let me know what you think! Please!_


	6. Chapter 6: Regaining Lost trust

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**__**

**__**

**_Hazelhorse:_**_ Thanks! Truth be told, giving the ring to Lillian didn't even occur to me. Mostly likely because, doing so would conflict with the ideas I already have in the works. But you're right; doing such an event would change the plot too much. Not to mention, probably giving me a splitting headache in the process. : )_

**_LalithoftheBruinen:_**_ Thank you! I'm glad you have been enjoying the story. And your questions inspired me to write some scenes that I didn't originally plan to write. As for answers to your questions… the answers will appear in 2nd or 3rd chapter coming up. And I can actually say that safely because the scenes for them are already written. ;)_

**_Sdoinky:_**_ Here is more. I hope you like it!_

_And before everyone goes read the chapter, I also want to thanks **Phoenix** for all the help she gave me during this chapter._

**_Important note!!_**

_ Anything * written within these marks * is being spoke in Elvish._

Well, I'll shut up now and let you read.

                        -Lady Healer

**_Chapter 6: Regaining Lost Trust._**

Sunlight crept into the simple room, shinning down on the small figure on the bed. Groaning, Lillian tossed the covers over her head and buried her face in the pillows, wishing she could disappear from this place. It had been two days since the council. Two days since she had talked to anyone. And two days since she had broken the unbending rules of her world.   
Lillian curled into a ball underneath her blankets, as the memories of that day clouded her mind.  
  


***********Flashback***********  
  


To her panicked mind the hallways of Rivendell all looked the same. But it didn't matter. She had to get out. If these nobles wanted her gone so badly that they would send her on a perilous journey to be rid of her, then so be it. She would leave. If she could just find the way out…

  
Her heart hurt. She was just beginning to believe that Middle-Earth was different and that nobles here had a shred of honor within them. Taking care of their people and kingdom instead of taking for themselves. Even to the point where they would shelter a perfect stranger…

  
But she was wrong… They were not truly different from those in her world after all. They were milder, kind even … and perhaps that was because they held their heads so high that they would not lower themselves to strike a simple servant.   
No, they only found other methods to get rid of them.

  
These nobles' charades had seemed so sincere that Lillian was starting to believe that, that was whom they truly were. She had actually begun to think that she could choose her path in life without constant fear and mistrust. But that hope was buried in the ashes that it dared rise from.

  
And as Lillian's thoughts continued to race, she ran down the hallway, her silver skirt clutched tightly in one hand. Tears were building in her eyes, blurring her vision as they threatened to fall. As she turned the corner Lillian failed to see the she-elf on the other side and collided with her, sending them both to the floor. 

  
From her positioned, Lillian's eyes widened in shock and fear as she recognized Arwen. The daughter of the very lord that wished her gone and she had knocked her over. What would they do to her now? What would the punishments be? She had broken so many rules since her arrival in this new place. Yet she hadn't been punished for them. The nobles here claim that they didn't exist; was that a lie? Was it only the Lord of Rivendell that played this charade or did all the nobles here?

  
Lillian was confused. She wasn't sure what do or think anymore. Defying a lord was punishable by death. But the nobles of her world often used far worst methods to torture the servants before ending their lives. And touching a noble without permission dealt the same fate. What was going to happen to her now? 

  
The human girl buried her face into her hands as salty tears fell down her cheeks unchecked. Such a sign of weakness would have drawn the attentions of the nobles, and she would have been beaten for their sick amusement. But she no longer cared. Lillian just wished that everything was over with. As she knelt there, her shoulders tensed for the blow to come and her mind and soul was immersed in despair, she didn't hear Arwen's voice calling to her.

  
She flinched when the she-elf touched her. And for a moment that touch disappeared. A breath later, Lillian felt herself being enfolded in a gentle hug and rocked gently as Arwen whispered to her. The former servant felt a shock of disbelief enter her system. This noble woman was trying to comfort her? Lillian's confusion grew as a thought passed through her mind.   
Who were the real nobles, and who were not?

  
*****************End Flashback****************

  
Her tears fell anew, soaking the pillow through. What was going to happen to her now?   
For the past two days she had stayed inside her room. The only person she saw was the maid that brought her meals. Lillian missed the comforting presence of Elrohir. And she was beginning to wonder if he was an act as well. That thought hurt.  
Though Lillian had no romantic feelings towards the elf, she had started to feel a true friendship between them was possible…

  
But it looked like she was wrong about that as well. After all, a friend wouldn't abandon a friend like this, would they? As her thoughts continued, Lillian failed to notice a person entering the room with a tray in his hands. Had she looked from underneath the covers that she had buried in she would have seen the son of the Lord of Rivendell.

  
************

  
Elrohir studied the hidden girl from his from his viewpoint at the doorway and again, sadness touched his soul. So much grief in one child… And once more, the elf wished that his father had chosen a differently. But his father wouldn't change his mind, no matter who argued against it. Elrohir knew that. He would just have to get Lillian prepared for the journey ahead.

  
But that would not be easy. Elrohir had the feeling that the little trust she had gained from her healing had been destroyed by Elrond's decision. And there was little time for him to regain it. In roughly a month's time, the Fellowship would leave Rivendell to set out on their quest. And in less than a week, his brothers and he would be scouting for signs of the Nazgul. Which meant, that another would have to start training Lillian in the art of combat. Elrohir was relieved when Legolas agreed to help. He would be a good teacher for Lillian, kind and patient but strict. 

  
After setting the tray on the main table, Elrohir sat on the bed, beside Lillian's frail form. Pulling the covers away from her face, Elrohir cursed mentally when he saw the running tears. He should have visited her sooner instead of waiting as both his father and Gandalf had suggested. They had believed she needed to come to terms with the situation first, and though he was skeptical, Elrohir yielded to their wisdom. But in this case, it did more damage then good.  Picking up of a lock of tangled hair, Elrohir began to comb through it with a brush from the side table. After a few moments' silence, Elrohir asked, "Why do you cry so, my lady?"

  
Still lying on her side Lillian stared at Elrohir. Why was he here? And being so nice? In a soft voice she finally answered, "I'm being sent to my death."

  
Elrohir paused for a moment, trying to decide where to take the conversation. And after a string of mental debates, he decided to ask the questions that had been dominating his thoughts since he first met her. While it might cause her to enshroud herself even more, Elrohir understood that. But he also knew that in the long run that revealing small parts of her past to others would aid her healing. "Why are you saddened about death when you once sought it? Is it not what you want?"

  
Lillian's eyes turned a stormy gray in confusion. Why did she care if she lived or died? Elrohir was right. For the longest of times her life had been Hell, and she did seek the freedom of death. But why now did she want to live? But even as she questioned herself, Lillian knew the answer. She had had a taste of true freedom. And despite the pain she had known in her life, and may yet feel, she wanted that freedom. "I do not seek death, for I no longer want it," Lillian answered slowly. 

A smile graced Elrohir's lips at her answered. Not all her healing had been reversed it would seem. She now had the will to live.  "What do you want, Lillian?"

  
"To live, my lord," was her response.

  
Setting the brush down, Elrohir replied, "Then live, Lillian," the elf said and retrieved the tray of food from the table. After Lillian sat herself up, Elrohir place the tray on her lap, adding, "And titles are not necessary, mellon." 

Lillian looked at the elf in confusion. "Mellon?"

  
"It is Elvish for friend, for that is what I wish to be." Her eyes widened. 

  
"Why?" 

  
Tapping her gently on the nose, Elrohir answered, "I like you."

  
"Why?" She questioned again, dumbfounded. 

Shrugging his shoulders, the elf continued. "Must there be a reason for everything?" Picking up a slice of apple, Elrohir waved in front of her mouth, asking, "Now are you going to eat, mellon, or will horsey and birdie make an another appearance?"  
  
**********************  
  
"No," Elrohir sighed. "Do not say it so flatly. Put more air into your words as you speak. Now, try again." It had been four days since his first visit after the council and Elrohir had begun to teach the young woman his native tongue. The idea of doing so came to him during their first conversation after his father meeting when he saw her fascination with Sindarin.  Unfortunately, she was having harder time grasping it then he had original thought she would. Lillian did her best not to roll her eyes. 

  
"Nwalme." Elvish may be a very beautiful language, but Lillian felt just short of frustration. She had tried many times to get it right and each time something was wrong with the pronunciation. Each day for the last four days, Elrohir had come to visit her. And during that time they mostly took walks, talking about different subjects. 

  
Well, Elrohir was the one that did most of the talking; Lillian didn't begin to truly begin to rejoin the conversation until he had started these lessons. And in those four days, the elf-lord slowly managed to slip past her walls once more.

 Rolling his eyes, the elf reached up grasped her mouth, forcing her lips to pucker.  "Again." 

  
"Nwarme." His look was just short of scathing. 

In turn the girl crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air.  "If you want to teach me to speak the language, maybe you should work with hello and good-bye rather than the alphabet." 

  
"But Feanor's Tengwar is the key both Sindarin and Quenya. You cannot learn to speak or read without it." Elrohir countered, firmly.

  
"If it is this much trouble, I will go back to learning Hobbit Drinking reels."

 He could not help laughing. "Well, then *songbird, * show me what you have learned during your stay here." 

  
She pulled back her shoulders, took a deep breath...and exhaled suddenly. Thinking that perhaps her wound still bothered her, Elrohir placed one gentle hand on her stomach as the other supported her back. He began to search the area, but Lillian brushed him away.   "I am fine, but," the girl blushed. "Some of the lyrics, I remember now, are too, embarrassing." 

  
"Come now," the elf wheedled. "I am sure that Frodo would not teach you anything impure."

  
"But, Lord Elrohir," she gently interrupted, retreating from their moment of comfort. 

  
"No excuses, Lady Lillian," he winked at her. "Let me hear the beautiful voice you have hidden within you, Linde (Singer)." 

  
She tried with all her might to resist, but it was no longer possible. She laughed, cleared her throat, and did her best not to croak with mortification.  
  
"Drink my sons, Feast yea well  
The crops are in, the ale is still  
Pouring, pouring, flowing gold.   
And we'll drink so the girls are   
Pretty, and their fathers speak  
Of throwing us all out in the Dell."  
  
As the last word left her mouth, Lillian buried her face in her hands in embarrassment, a red hue flushing her cheeks. She knew her voice not very good. In fact, she was probably one of the very worst singers there was. She wasn't even quite sure why she even bothered with the attempt. Except maybe for the fact that Elrohir made her feel comfortable, even if he was a noble.

  
The aforementioned male studied the embarrassed woman and smiled slightly. Her voice broke several times and she wasn't on tune, but that didn't matter. She had tried and that was what counted. He was also positive that she never had the chance before. It was no wonder why she was terrible. But he wasn't going to discourage her for every singing again. Far from it, in fact.  Even if his ears would ring for days to come. 

  
Gently, Elrohir started to pull her hands away from her face, saying, "Why do you hide your face so, mellon? It was not that bad that you need to hide your beautiful eyes. No, all you need are singing lessons and pretty soon you will be out performing me!" Raising her chin, Elrohir looked in her wide disbelieving eyes. "We shall add them to your language lessons!"  
_'He is mad,'_ Lillian thought to herself. But, many times it had been his madness that comforted her, and it was very confusing. Sometimes this elf gave her a terrible headache. 

  
"My Lord, please, do not torture yourself so," she implored. "I am hopeless. I can do naught but sew, and clean, and even that I do poorly!"

  
"Nonsense. I doubt those are all the talents you have, mellon." Looking into her disbelieving eyes, Elrohir added firmly, "You just need the chance to discover your abilities, Lillian. And you shall have that chance." Pausing for only a moment, Elrohir continued, "We shall take a break from your language sessions and begin with the voice lessons."

  
"You are mad." Lillian said bluntly. The fear of speaking to Elrohir was long gone. Driven off by his continued bouts of madness. Well, madness in Lillian's opinion. After all, to actually try to teach her singing, he had to be. Raising her hand to his lips, Elrohir planted a quick kiss upon it. 

  
"Only madly in love you, my lady." She rolled her eyes at her teacher's flirting. She had gotten use to it during the time she had known him. "Now lets begin." Groaning, Lillian slouched slightly forward, hiding her face in her hands.

  
"No. No. No," said Elrohir as he took her hands away from her face. "You cannot sing if you hide your face like that!" Putting one hand on her back and the other on her shoulder, Elrohir straightened her posture as he continued his speech. "When singing you should keep your back straight." Elrohir tapped her nose. "No slouching. It is an important step, especially for beginners."

  
Lillian groaned again as she commented, "You are going to be as picky about this as you are with language, are you not?"

  
"Of course. No, don't hide your face." Elrohir gripped her hands with his own to stop her action. Returning her hands to her lap he started his lecture. "The first, most important things to remember about singing: one, you need breath through your mouth, not your nose." Seeing Lillian nod, Elrohir continued, "Two, you need to take deep breaths from your gut." At Lillian look of confusion, he explained. "Without a proper breath your voice will sound airy and immature, we don't want that. When you breathe correctly, your stomach will expand instead of your shoulders rising up." Pausing for only a brief moment, Elrohir put one hand her stomach, saying, "I want you to take a proper breath now, Lillian." Seeing the blush on her cheeks, Elrohir chuckled, commented, "It is all right, Lillian. There is nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact, this is how my mother taught me. Now breathe." Nodding her head, she followed the elf's instruction and took a breath. "Good." Elrohir commented. "Try to take a deeper breath. Again." And for a half an hour the two worked on proper breathing.

  
"Very good." Praised the elf-lord. "Now we are ready for the next step. We will work a little bit on tone and pitch." Once again seeing Lillian's confused look, Elrohir explained. "Tone is how your voice sounds when singing. Pitch is if you are hitting the notes correctly."

  
"Will you give an example?" Lillian asked softly.

 He looked at the woman curiously. "Would you like to hear me sing?" At her nod, Elrohir consented, thinking about what to sing. Seconds later, he decided, "I shall sing to you the sad tale of Tinuviel."

  
Closing his eyes, Elrohir straightened his back, took a deep slow breath, and began singing the familiar melody in his deep tenor voice.  
  
"The leaves were long, the grass was green,  
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,  
And in the glade a light was seen  
Of stars in shadows shimmering.  
Tinuviel was dancing there  
To music of a pipe unseen,  
And light of stars was in her hair,  
And in her raiment glimmering.  
  
There Beren came form mountains cold,  
And lost he wandered under leaves,  
And the Elven-river rolled  
He walked alone and sorrowing.  
He peered between the hemlock-leaves  
And saw in wonder flowers of gold  
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,  
And her hair like shadows following.  
  
Enchantment healed his weary feet  
That over hills were doomed to roam;  
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,  
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.  
Through woven woods in Elvenhome  
She lightly fled on dancing feet,  
And left him lonely still to roam  
In the silent forest listening.  
  
He heard there oft the flying sound  
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,  
Or music welling underground,  
In hidden hollows quavering.  
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,  
And one by one with sighing sound  
Whispering fell the beechen leaves  
In the wintry woodland wavering.  
  
We sought her ever, wandering far  
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,  
By light of moon and ray of star  
In frosty heaven shivering.  
Her mantle glinted in the moon,  
As on a hilltop high and far  
She danced, and at her feet was strewn  
A mist of silver quivering.  
  
When winter passed, she came again,  
And her song released the sudden spring,  
Like rising lark, and falling rain,  
And melting water bubbling.  
He saw the Elven-flowers spring  
About her feet, and healed again  
He longed by her to dance and sing  
Upon the grass untroubling.  
  
Again she fled, but swift he came.  
Tinuviel! Tinuviel!  
He called her by her elvish name;  
And there she halted listening  
One moment stood she, and a spell  
His voice laid on her: Beren came,  
And doom fell on Tinuviel  
That in his arms lay glistening.  
  
As Beren looked into her eyes   
Within the shadows of her hair,  
The trembling starlight of the skies  
He saw there mirrored shimmering.  
Tinuviel the elven-fair,  
Immortal maiden elven-wise,  
About him cast her shadowy hair  
And arms like silver glimmering.  
  
Long was the way that fate them bore,  
O'er stony mountains cold and gray,  
Through halls of iron and darkling door,  
And woods of nightshade morrowless.  
The Sundering Seas between them lay,  
And yet at last they met once more,  
And long ago they passed away  
In the forest singing sorrowless.

  
  
As the song ended, Lillian opened her eyes and commented softly, "That was beautiful, sad, but beautiful." Elrohir nodded his head. 

  
"Thank you." A comfortable silence passed between the two before the elf-lord said, "Tomorrow, Lillian, I will not be here. My brothers and I are scouting for signs of the Nazgul and will return shortly before the fellowship leaves." Softly smiling at Lillian, Elrohir patted her hand saying, "Worry not though, the others here will aid you in anything you will need." 

  
Standing up, he started to walk toward the door stating, "The hour is late and you should get some sleep. I will have left before you have awaken in the morning, but I will see you before you leave on the quest."

  
"My lor-" Lillian started to say, but bit her lip, remembering the elf's request for a name rather than a title. It was a matter on which he would not take no for answered, and had tickled her until she had agreed. Smiling lightly she began again, slightly timidly, "Elrohir?" He smiled, happy to slip past some of her old world's rules, even if it was mostly in private. 

  
"Yes, Lillian?"

  
Shifting her weight nervously, the girl asked, "Will you sing me one more song in your native tongue?"

  
Smiling gently at the young woman, Elrohir answered, "I shall sing a verse when you are prepared for bed. I will be waiting outside your door. Come and get me when you are ready." And with that he walked out her room. Scant minutes later, Lillian invited him back inside. 

  
"Well, get in bed, mellon and I shall begin," he chuckled at her childish excitement. She settled comfortably under the covers, watching as Elrohir took a seat on the edge of the mattress. And then slowly he began:  
  
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel,  
silivern penna miriel  
o menel aglar elenath!  
Na-chaered palan-diriel  
o galadhremmin ennorath,  
Fanuilos, le linnathon  
Nef aear, si nef aearon!"   
  
As he finished, Elrohir opened his closed eyes and smiled down at the sleeping figure. Gently, he took the lack blankets and pulled them up to her chin, tucking her in. After a quick kiss on the forehead, the elf-lord whispered softly, "Namarie mellon (farewell friend)," and left the room.

_____________________________________

_Well, hopefully everyone has enjoyed the chapter!_

Originally, chapter six was this chapter combined with, what will be, the next three chapters. But I thought it would be a little cruel to make everyone wait for a long period of time, and the other parts are taking longer to write than I thought they would, so I split them up.  

_The next part will probably be out soon. All I have left to do is finish the last scene for it, which is giving me problems at the moment, and then it needs to go through editing. _

_The next chapter: Swords and Memories._

_Like?  Hate?  Let me know! Please!_


	7. Chapter 7: Swords and memories

Disclaimer: Own nothing.

**_Hazelhorse:_**_ Thanks! And it was the full tale of Tinuviel._

**_LalaithoftheBruinen:_**_ I'd hope you enjoy the chapter!_

_And I would like to thank Phoenix for all the help she gave me during this chapter._

**_Note._**__

_Anything * written within these marks* is being spoken in Elvish._

_And now I let you read, but please remember to review!_

_            Enjoy!_

_                                    -Lady Healer._

Chapter 7: Swords and memories.

Three days after Elrohir had left with his brothers to do some scouting, Lillian walked to the garden where Prince Legolas asked her to meet him. She was dressed in plain black trousers and a silver tunic, as requested, and her dark hair was pulled back in a simple braid. 

  
She sighed. The people here were so confusing. Since her arrival here, they had been nothing but kind. And now she was being sent on a quest that would most likely lead to her death. 

  
Lillian frowned at the memory. When she had first been informed of the quest, she had believed that it was her hosts' way of getting rid of her. But the former servant wasn't so sure now. The elves' kindness hadn't dimmed, like she expected it too. If they were indeed hiding their true intentions, they would have shed the role of caregivers by now. Wouldn't they? 

  
But what did they hope to gain? It puzzled her. These high raking nobles insisted on treating her as an equal. It had been so long since she was treated like a real person as oppose to a mindless slave. The last time she could remember was when she was six and those memories were hazy at best.

  
Reaching an old tree in the garden she sat down at the base to wait for Prince Legolas's arrival. She was early, and so couldn't be punished for tardiness. That is, if they punished such things. Looking up at the beautiful morning sky, Lillian frowned as her thoughts continued about this strange race. 

  
These, elves. Their rules were different here; a very profound concept to be summed up in a simple sentence. It wasn't the only difference either. In fact, it seemed that almost everything was different here. The very air that surrounded this place was a warm feeling, a sense of safety. And that very presence gave her a sense of freedom for the first time after her blood father' condemnation.

  
And the people here encouraged that. Every since she had woken up in Rivendell, they had been nothing but kind, especially Elrohir. Shaking her head, Lillian smiled fondly at the thought of the dark haired elf as her fingers plucked at the green grass around her. 

  
The son of Elrond was the first person she met in this strange world. He was also the first person that made every attempt to get her to laugh, to open up, to be herself, even at his own expense. Many people would have looked down at him in her world for his actions, and perhaps in this world as well. She did not know. 

  
He cared not, however. Every time she felt scared, he had reassured her. Like he did after the council. It was he who had explained to her why she was being sent on the quest. And though she didn't quite believe his reasons, it did help her set her mind at ease. If only a little bit. 

  
Elrohir was curious about her past. It was one of the few things that showed clearly through his manner. Yet, he did not push her for answers, not truly. He just stated that if she ever needed a friend, then he would listen. 

  
Friends. That was something that was very rare for her. At her blood father's home she had only three true friends. A tear fell from Lillian's eye at the thought of those dear souls. 

  
Rena had protected her until she was killed. And Liz, her second friend who became like a sister to her and who had taught her all she knew about healing. Even if it was just a little. Every servant in her blood father's home was required to know at least the basics of emollient if you wanted to live. The nobles would not waste the time or resources for them.

  
Liz had been executed when Lillian was sixteen as punishment for speaking against the King. The only one left alive was Galen. All the other servants were too afraid to form friendships with others. And Lillian could understand why.

  
"Hello, Lady Lillian. Are you ready?" a voice asked. Shaken out of her thoughts, Lillian settled her gaze on her hands, nodded and stood up. A day ago, Prince Legolas informed her that he was going to begin training her to in defense, once proper clothing was made. Lillian didn't understand why he would waste the time and energy to teach a servant to do so. But since the beginning, Lillian didn't comprehend what caused the these nobles to treat servants like equals, yet they did… 

  
Legolas sighed softly, knowing that a wall still kept her from speaking before others. And part of that wall dealt with his nobility. He would find a way around that barrier; but it would take precious time.  "Follow me please." And with that he lead Lillian to the training grounds. She watched her footing as the prince lead her farther into the garden. He carried a long satchel on his back and though she was curious, refrained from asking about it. 

  
"We are almost to the practice area, Lady," Legolas said. The former servant barely kept herself from watching his face. Instead, she chewed on her lip and listened to the far off waterfalls. "Today we begin your training. And the first thing you must learn," he tilted her chin up, "is to watch your opponent." Legolas watched her as Lillian waged an inner struggle. It was plain to see in her eyes that the bonds of her world still held fast. Minutes later, her glaze locked onto his ear and Legolas sighed. He wasn't quite sure how to break that habit of hers. And it needed to be broken, quickly. "Lady Lillian," Legolas said softly. "You need to look into my eyes. The eyes of your opponent can tell you many things about them, how they think, how they move." 

  
Lillian kept her vigil on his ear and Legolas could feel a headache begin. And elves did not get headaches. It would have to be another day before her habits were broken. For now, she must learn some form of defense or she would die in the first battle they came across. 

  
"Very well, Lady Lillian. If you do not feel comfortable looking into my eyes then let us work on something else." Reaching for the satchel on his back, Legolas continued, "I'm going to start you on some basic sword training." And as Legolas pulled out a simple but elegant sword from the satchel, Lillian froze, forgetting at the moment that she was not in her world. Failing to remember her surroundings or that this was merely a training session, as she stared at the sword. 

  
A noble was offering her a sword. 

  
Horror and fear gripped her as she stumbled back pleading, "No ... no ... Please don't." Legolas's confused face and concerned look did not register in her mind as she continued to stumble backwards. Nor did the elf's caring words. Lillian was trapped in her own mind; in memories from when she was a child of nine years.

  
********************Flashback******************   
  
The servants had been called to the arena. They were not sure why, but everyone had an ominous feeling about what was to occur. Lillian was walking beside Liz, a woman in her late twenties with graying brown hair. It was only two hours since she dropped the plates in the dinning hall, and the child hoped that Rena was all right. 

  
Before she could continue with her thoughts, the dim sunlight from outside fluttered over her face as the crowd of servants exited the dark corridor. The nobles were already seated in the upper benches, a few sat with Kalin in the King's private box. A cruel murmur ran through the aristocracy, as the 'king' stood. "My fellow Nobles," he shouted. "We have gathered here to bare witness to the execution of this most lowly of traitors to the crown. She has maliciously destroyed the property of her Lord Master!" The roar of the crowd was defining as Rena was led into the center of the arena. Once at the center of the stadium she was release and a sword was thrown to her feet. When the roar of the crowd lowered, Kalin continued with his speech. "This servant shall fight one of my personal guards to the death. If, by chance, should she win, she will be given her freedom." With a signal from the 'king,' Rena's opponent was lead in. Within minutes the battle of survival had begun. 

  
"NO," Lillian cried, tears falling from her eyes in a flood. At hearing her friend's scream of pain she shouted, "RENA!" 

  
Turning the struggle child towards her Liz whispered hoarsely, "Quiet, young one. You will only draw unwanted attention." The girl sobbed as she ended her struggle and the crowd cheered.

  
"It not fair… She didn't…deserve this…" Rubbing Lillian's back in soothing circles, a tear fell down Liz's own cheek. 

  
"No, she didn't, but the nobles don't care and the few who do are to afraid to do anything about it." 

  
"What if they knew that he wasn't the true…" the girl began many minutes later. 

  
"Don't finish that thought, Lillian!" Liz interrupted sharply. "If 'he' discovered that you were aware of your birth right he would kill you on the spot." Rubbing her back again, she continued softly, "You have to wait, child. The time will come; you will claim what is yours and put things to rights." Still holding onto the small child, Liz walked with the rest of the servants, as they were shepherded back inside. "There has to be."  
  
**************************

  
Pushing the memory back, Lillian did the only thing her fear-stricken mind would allow. 

  
She ran. 

  
Legolas watched her leave the garden, his bewildered mind still trying to piece together what had happened. What could cause her to react that way to a sword? A thought occurred to him then. He knew from Elrohir that she had lead a life that was based along the lines of slavery. Was an event from her past the cause of such a reaction to a sword, even when offered hilt first? 

  
Quickly, Legolas raced after the fleeing girl, leaving his sword to drop on the ground. Thanks to Elven speed, he caught up to her, grabbing her wrist. Lillian clawed at him in an attempt to flee. But her malnourished body did not have the strength. As he tightened his grip, the sickening sensation of bone just below the skin made his own flesh crawl. It also set him against the crazed fear in the human girl.

  
Half frustrated, and one quarter calm, Legolas grasped her face in both hands and all but jerked her head up near his own. With determination, he forced Lillian's red eyes to meet his and began to speak the first thing that came to his mind. 

  
  
"*Live with a light heart, and with glad memories of me;   
for I cherish your name, and love your face.   
We will yet again meet, and you shall stand with me.   
Around your neck will be woven many garlands of sweet rose and violets;   
and soft winds that whisper in dewed groves.  
No thing holy or dark shall part us;  
Even as I leave now to battle. *" 

  
  
It was a poem he had once read in his father's library during an idle morning. But now, he was glad for the words that fell smoothly from his lips. The human's frantic struggles had ceased. Instead her eyes drifted half shut as she listened to the ancient language. But when he stopped and the spell was broken, Lillian stiffened, turning her face away.

  
Legolas allowed himself a small sigh, but let go of her face. After a couple moments of silence, he asked, "What caused you to react so to a sword, Lady Lillian?" And as minutes passed it became clear to Legolas that she meant not to tell him. Sighing again Legolas mumbled, "Lillian, I cannot help you if you do not tell me what happened."

  
Lowering her head, Lillian replied bitterly, "Nobles don't help servants, my Lord."

  
"Lady, tell me what happened to trigger such alarm," Legolas said firmly. When she made no sign of doing such he added the last part to his command. "Now."

  
And so, slowly and reluctantly, Lillian told him the events of her childhood. From the beginning of the punishments dealing with the sword to the fact that the servants were later used for the nobles' sporting arenas. And she spared no details, her head lowered and her eyes downcast. 

  
And because her eyes were fixed on her folded hands, she did not see the horror that had entered the prince's eyes. Nor did she see his anger. Two hours later, after he had escorted Lillian back to her rooms, Legolas walked purposely to Lord Elrond's study. Lillian was not going on the quest of the One Ring. She was not meant to, and he was going to make sure the Lord of Imladris understood that.

  
  
*******************  
  
It only took the Prince of Mirkwood minutes to arrive at Elrond's study, but during that time he had pooled any knowledge he could use in the argument ahead. And an argument it would be, of that Legolas had no doubt. Though they both would have to choose their words with care. Being from two different kingdoms, politics alone would demand that, friends of old or not. 

  
Sharply, Legolas knocked on the wooden door, waiting for the signal to enter. Rarely, had the younger elf disagreed with the wisdom of the Lord of Rivendell, and thus he stayed silent at the council. Believing that there had to be a reason why Elrond had sent Lillian on the quest with them.

  
And when Lillian ran from the meeting, he believed that it was from shock and fear, that, perhaps she was not informed of the decision before hand. He couldn't blame her for such action. The rest of the members volunteered, she was chosen. But he believed that she would be all right, as long as she was trained to defend herself, before the fellowship left. After all, she had about the same amount of fighting experience as the hobbits. 

  
But the events of a few hours ago changed his mind. The hobbits, unlike Lillian, didn't have the emotional scars to go with their lack of training. The child needed to stay where she was safe and have the proper time to heal. The quest could not give her that.  
"Enter." Elrond's voice cut through his thoughts.

 Quickly, Legolas stepped inside and was glad to note that the Elven-Lord was alone. Bowing once, as custom demanded, Legolas spoke. "My lord, I wish to speak on the matter of Lady Lillian." Looking at the prince calmly with his brown eyes, Elrond gestured towards a chair. 

  
"Would you like to have a seat, Prince Legolas?" Lightly frowning, Legolas took the offered chair. He remained silent, knowing that control of the conversation was in the other elf's hands. 

  
Leaning back in his seat, the Elven-lord of Rivendell folded his hands asking, "Of what concerning Lady Lillian do you wish to speak on?"

  
"I do not believe she should be part of the Fellowship." Legolas replied simply. 

  
Elrond withheld the sigh the tried to escape him. Many times, many people had come to him to discuss the same matter. The half-elven understood that his decision brought doubt to many, but he was certain of his choice. "Why do you feel this way?" 

  
Carefully, Legolas thought of his response, unsure to speak of the events in the gardens. It should be Lillian's decision to tell whom she wished. He wasn't sure if letting others know would aid her or harm her healing. It could have either effect. Thinking for a moment, Legolas decided. He would remain silent for now, and seek Elrohir's advice. He knew her the best of them all, and would have a better understanding of how to handle the situation. 

  
But Legolas also knew that might not be an option. The Elven-lord of Rivendell was certain about sending the girl on the quest. And if he could not convince Elrond without revealing Lillian's reaction in the garden, then he might have too. She could not go on the journey. 

  
Locking his blue eyes with Elrond's brown, Legolas answered, "There are many reasons, my lord, why I do not believe that Lady Lillian should be part of the Fellowship." He paused a moment, studying the other elf and thinking of the best way to present his argument. "I shall start at the beginning." Tapping his fingers lightly on the armchair, the younger elf continued, "The quest of the Fellowship is the destruction of the one ring, which is the problem of Middle-Earth, as you, yourself, said at the council. Lady Lillian, though, is not of this world. She is from the lands of Lindreal. And as such, the fate of the one ring or even Middle-Earth is not her concern. You had no right to volunteer her without her consent." 

  
Elrond studied the Elven-Prince with calculating eyes. The son of Thranduil indeed. There was more to this meeting than what was said, for had the prince rejected to his decision at the council, they would have spoken much earlier than this. No, the Lord decided, something had happened to sway the young elf's mind.

  
Nodding, the Elven-lord said, "That is very true, Legolas Thranduilion, however I have reason to believe that it was by the will of the Valar that she was sent here. And, by such, it is her destiny to travel with the Fellowship to see the destruction of the one ring." A silence stretched between the two. The eldest watching while the younger pondered his answer. The thought that the Valar had sent Lillian had crossed Legolas' mind many times since he discovered her origin. Though he had not thought of the reason behind it. 

  
"Perhaps the Valar means for her to heal." Legolas replied.

  
Again, Elrond nodded as he countered, "Perhaps. That is highly possible. However, why would they send her to this point in time if they intended for her to only heal from past scars? And if that was the case, then why intervene **_after_** the Lady attempted suicide?" The Lord of Imladris paused, allowing the younger elf to think before adding, "No, I believe this a sign that she was meant to travel on this path."

  
Again, Legolas pondered on the words of Elrond. He could see the wisdom behind it, and knew that the elder elf did not make his choice hastily. But the young prince could still clearly see Lillian's stricken face in his mind, and feel his, distaste, at sending such a person on a dangerous quest. And once more, the prince of Mirkwood pulled his thoughts together, preparing for the arguments that would come, if he was going to have a chance at dissuading the elder's mind. Legolas decided to start with the simple arguments first. 

  
"She is just a child."

  
"But an adult among the Atani." Elrond countered with ease.

  
"She may be an adult in Men's terms…"Legolas started to say, a stern note in his voice, "but she has a child's understanding of this world."

  
Elrond leaned back in his chair as he replied, "She will learn as she travels."

  
"She has only begun to recover." 

  
The lord of Rivendell raised his eyebrow, amused. That argument may have worked on a different elf, but not on him. He knew his charge's healing state better than anyone. "Lady Lillian's physical wounds are fully healed. Unfortunately, mental and emotional scars are beyond my ability to erase. The only one who can heal those, is Lady Lillian herself." 

Legolas was positive the healing argument was not going to change the Elven-lord's mind, but he knew that he had to review all points possible. "Even if she is fully healed, she is still in poor health." Elrond nodded in agreement. 

  
"It is true, she is in a terrible physical state, but not dangerously so. Lady Lillian's health is improving by the day, the hobbits enjoy 'teaching her to eat' at their meals." The Lord of Rivendell paused briefly before continuing, "Even in her condition, she could travel. By the time the Fellowship leaves Rivendell, Lady Lillian's will have improved greatly in contrast to her first arrival."

  
"Lady Lillian does not trust anyone, and that will be of utmost importance if we are to succeed." Legolas argued.

  
"Yet, she will learn to trust, she has already begun to do so." Elrond countered. "I expect the dwarf, Gimili son of Gloin, shall cause you more trouble."

  
The Elven-prince felt his frustrations rise. He knew that this conversation would not be easy. But for every argument he gave, Elrond already had an answer. Legolas now understood why Elrond's children were so well versed debates, they had to argue against their father. 

  
Thinking about Lillian past actions, Legolas made his next point. "The laws of her world have a fast grip on her. And as of yet, the only one to succeed in passing them is Elrohir. Those rules will put unnecessary strain on the fellowship."

  
"But time will pass and she will begin to trust and when she does she will learn that she can break those rules. In the end, it will not be a strain that forms, but a bond." Replied Elrond calmly. 

  
"She will be a burden," said the prince of Mirkwood.

  
"No more than the hobbits," the lord of Imladris countered.

 If the direction of this conversation continued, Legolas would have to reveal his knowledge of Lillian's past. Something, he did not wish to do. "She has no skills to offer the Fellowship." 

  
The Elven-lord shook his head, and replied, "She does have a skill to offer, Prince Legolas." Elrond smile at Legolas curious look before smile, "She has at least a basic knowledge of healing, perhaps more."

  
"How do you know this?" asked Legolas.

  
"After she woke, I found many times that her wounds had already been treated before I came to check them," answered Elrond.

  
"Perhaps, Elrohir or another had treated her," countered Legolas. Again the elder shook his head.

  
"I have already made certain of this. And though the work was not the best; given the material she had to work with, she did a remarkable job."

 Once more, Legolas paused to think. He had one more argument to try before revealing Lillian's past, but he already knew that it would be countered. "She cannot fight."

  
"She can learn to fight," came the expected reply.

  
"The past haunts her. It kept her from learning the skill of the sword this afternoon." Legolas replied, calmly, wishing that he did not have to do this.

  
Elrond's eyes narrowed as he questioned, "How did it stop her from learning?"

  
And so Legolas explained the event in the garden. Throughout the tale, the Lord of Rivendell's expression changed from surprise to anger to sadness. And silence descended on the two elves after Legolas finished the tale, both lost in their own thoughts. 

  
"She will have to learn a different weapon," Elrond stated firmly some minutes later.

  
Looking at the elder elf in surprise, Legolas exclaimed, "How can you still send her on the quest with such knowledge? She needs to be here, where she will have the time to heal!" 

Calmly Elrond stared at the younger elf before he replied. "Staying here will not help her, Legolas, son of Thranduil. Yes, here she would have time to heal and she would be safe. However, she would not face her past, her fears, and without doing that, she will never truly heal. The scars would just be left to fester. On the quest she would be force to confront them, which in the end, will allow the wounds to close." 

  
Raising a hand, Elrond stopped Legolas from interrupting. "I am not cold hearted, Prince. But the knowledge you have given me has strengthened my resolve." Pausing for a moment, the lord of Rivendell chose his next words with care. "Has it occurred to you that Lillian may not only be here to aid the Fellowship, or to heal, but rather she was brought here to gain the strength to end the corruption in her world? And that strength she may find only on the quest."

  
Again silence stretched between the two elves. Legolas had not thought of that option before. He didn't believe that Lillian should go on the quest, but Elrond's wisdom rang true. He would have to think a little more before he continued his argument.   
Rising to his feet, Legolas bowed, saying, "Thank you for the council, my lord." 

  
"You are welcome, Prince Legolas." And with the conversation ended, the prince of Mirkwood left the room.  
  
********************  
  
And during the next four days: Legolas continued arguing with the Lord of Rivendell, and the hobbits got to know their female companion. 

  
It was a peaceful day when Lillian, dressed in a plain blue gown, was eating second breakfast with the four young hobbits from the Shire. The hobbits were grinning and laughing as they retold events from their past to the relaxed human.

  
"You should have seen Frodo," Pippin said as he continued with the story. "He walked around all morning with little braids and pink bows in his hair."

  
Chuckling, Merry added, "He didn't notice until afternoon tea when Bilbo complemented him on his appearance!" 

Snorting, Frodo cut in. "I'll have you know that day forever scared me!"

  
"Of course cousin, I suppose that's why you exacted revenge with the help of Pippin's younger sisters." 

  
Lillian listened with interest. She found it amazing to listen to these small beings. With every moment she spent with them, she was reminded ever more of children. For the past few days, the hobbits told her of their lives and homes. Samwise Gamgee, Sam as he would rather be called, told her of many different types of plants and what was and was not good for cooking. And the other three hobbits were telling her of pranks they had pulled on each other through out the years.

  
"I only suggested to them that you two would like to play with them…" Frodo said, laughing.

  
"Knowing full well that they would want to play dress up." Merry interrupted, before he turned towards Lillian to explain. "They conned us into playing with them and we gave our word that we would…"

  
"We got stuck walking around in dresses for the rest of the day…" Pippin stated a matter of fact.

   
A peel of soft laughter echoed behind the group, and quickly they turned to see Glorfindel. Setting down in the empty chair beside Lillian, he began speaking. 

  
"Good morning, young masters and lady. I have to say that your earlier comment brought back some amusing memories of a young Elrohir." Seeing that he caught the company's interest he continued. "You see young hobbits, you were not the only ones who had to dress in gowns for a day." 

Lillian eyebrow came together, to intrigued to be scared of the Elven lord. "Elrohir?" she asked softly.

 Nodding, a smile graced Glorfindel's lips as he told his story. "It was long ago when Elrohir and Legolas were in their nine hundreds roughly around the physical age of seventeen. They made a little wager on the outcome of a contest between the themselves. I would say it was that day when Elrohir lost his sense of embarrassment and realized that betting against Legolas in archery was not very wise." Chuckling again, the Elvin lord commented, "I must say he looked quite attractive in rose tones."

_____________________________

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_Next chapter: Staffs and reflection. _


	8. Chapter 8: Staffs and reflections

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Chapter 8: Staffs and reflections

Two days after the conversation with Glorfindel and the hobbits, Lillian found herself in the side garden with Legolas, dressed in gray trousers and bluish silver tunic, holding a staff loosely in her hands.

  
Stopping behind her, Legolas began, "Your position is wrong. You need more weight on your right foot or you will overbalance. Your opponent would be able to send you to the ground in the first strike otherwise." Studying her for a moment with the eyes of a seasoned warrior, Legolas reached down, griping her shoulder and tugged her slightly backward and to the side.

  
Her lips pressed together, Lillian stumbled slightly backwards. For the past few days the Elven Prince had been teaching her to defend herself with a staff. And each day they worked close to three hours. And Lillian's aching muscles were screaming in protest. Though, Lord Legolas was kind, he was a very strict task maker when it came to training, excepting nothing less than the best of her abilities. But in those few days, she had gotten to know the elf better than before and Lillian felt another piece of her fear chipped away. However, that didn't stop her from being bloody annoyed at him as the hour went by. 

Glaring at the ground, Lillian tried to regain her footing. "Why did you do that, Lord Legolas?"

 After she had recovered her stance, Legolas sighed before crouching down behind her.  "Testing your balance. If you had paid attention, you wouldn't have stumbled like you did. Instead you would have felt my pull, but remain unmoved." Tapping the inside of her left ankle, Legolas continued. "You need to move this one out a little more. Your feet should be about shoulder width apart." Seeing Lillian's curious look, he explained. "It is one of the easiest ways to gain balance. Now adjust your feet, Lillian." After she followed his instructions, Legolas studied her posture from his crouched positioned. "Not too bad. In a pinch, this position could work. You should have better balance if…" The prince of Mirkwood trailed off as he gently gripped Lillian's left ankle and moved it towards him. "…this foot is slightly behind the behind the other." Standing up, the elf circled the young woman, before nodding to himself. "Much better." Gesturing to her stance, Legolas explained himself. "This is a better stance for staff fighting, because it allows the left foot to balance you better if an opponent tries to force you backward." 

  
Lillian nodded. She knew that she had much to learn before she would be prepared to fight. She didn't really want to have to fight. But the mission she was being sent on was a dangerous one and she much preferred to be able to defend herself if it came to it. However, the girl doubted that she would ever be a good fighter, she didn't have a real interest, nor did she have enough stamina. Lillian's interest lay in healing and herbs. She may had been forced to learn the healing arts, but that had failed to curb her passion for them. 

  
She could remember the first time she helped to heal a wound when she was a young child; ten if she was correct. The wound was minor, a shallow cut, but Lillian could remember the warm feeling of making someone else's pain ease. But, in a way, healing others pain did help soothe part of her own. Ever since then, Lillian had tried to learn what she could of the healing arts from any source available. Most of the practical parts of healing, she had learned from Liz. But the background and healing herbs, among others subjects, she learned from books in the Library. 

  
Often she would sneak down in the dead of night when everyone else was sleeping, bringing a small candle from the kitchens to read, lessening the chances of being caught. And there was a time when she would have been caught, if it has not been for Glenn's subtle intervention. There was more than one time that she would have been caught and punished if it had not been for her friend.

  
It was one of the reasons why Lillian felt that she wouldn't be a very good warrior, probably only decent at best. She didn't want to be the cause of another's pain, even the nobles from home. But she was no saint, and Lillian would be the first to admit it. Even though she didn't want to be the caused of pain, she would dance with joy if her blood father and his court suddenly dropped dead. Particularly her blood father. Ever since Rena's murder, Lillian's fear of nobles grew to new heights, but so did her hatred for her blood father. Nearly jumping, she felt Legolas's arms around her as he adjusted her arms and her grip on the staff. 

  
Chuckling, the elf said, "Welcome back to Rivendell, my lady." After moving her right hand little farther up, Legolas closed his own hand around her, ignoring her tenseness, and continued his instruction. "Now, you should have the same sort of grip on the staff as I do on your hands. Too tight, and you will tire you faster and decrease your potential. But if you hold it too loosely then your opponent will be able to disarm you with ease."

  
Nodding her head, Lillian tried her best to remember the prince's instructions, but most of what she had learned over the past few days was beginning to blur together. Releasing his hold, Legolas walked around her, stopping when he was in front of her. 

  
"Ok, I want you to hit me as hard as you can with that staff." Lillian eyes widened in shock. After a couple seconds she shook her head. She couldn't do that. One of the rules that held fast in her mind was that a servant could never strike a noble. Such was punishable by death.

 Frowning, Legolas explained.  "Lillian I need you to hit me. I need to know how much force you need to use."

  
Again Lillian shook her head, choosing to remain silent.

  
Sighing the elf said, "Do not worry about hurting me, Lillian. I am a warrior and can defend my self. If I cannot catch the staff like I am planning, then I will dodge it. Now hit me."

  
"I can't, my lord."

  
"And why not?" Legolas questioned, barely keeping the note of frustration out of his voice.

  
"Servants cannot hit-" 

  
"That rule does not exist here." Legolas interrupted sharply, rubbing the back of his head absentmindedly. Seeing Lillian's disbelief, he said, "If it did I wouldn't have been smacked upside the head so many times."

  
Still disbelieving him, Lillian raised one eyebrow.

  
"It's true! I tell no lie." Looking upwards for a moment, remembering a friend from home and grumbling. "And I didn't do anything to deserve it, either…" Seeing her skeptical look, he added, "I was behaving like a perfect gentleman that day."

  
"What he is not telling you Lillian," Arwen commented as she walked towards the duo, "was that he made a prank on her the night before."

 The she-elf looked at Legolas as Glorfindel joined them commenting as well.  "Bugs in her bed I believe." Studying the two for a brief moment, ignoring Legolas mutter of 'It's not like she didn't start it by putting worms in my drink. Besides we were in our six hundreds then,' and asked, "Now what is the problem?"

  
"She won't hit me so I can judge her strength."

  
Arwen's gray eyes brightened as a mischievous smile crossed her face. "Allow me to show you how its done, Lillian." The she-elf gently took the staff from the curious human. Glorfindel's blue eyes went wide and he quickly retreated from striking range, knowing what Arwen was planning and having no wish to be dragged into it.

  
And with an ease that came from many years of practice, Arwen took two steps forward, swinging toward the other's blond head. Eyes narrowed in concentration, Legolas raised his hands to catch the staff while slowly retreating. But Arwen was counting on that. With a twist of her wrist she changed the direction of the staff and lunged, causing Legolas to miss the staff and hit his stomach, instead.

  
As Arwen stepped back, Legolas held his stomach, gasping, "Your brothers taught you a little too well." Laughing the she-elf patted the prince on the head. 

  
"Let us just say this is payback for the three mud baths you gave me last month." Smirking, Legolas tripped Arwen, sending her to the ground. Before she recovered, the prince threw her over his shoulder. 

  
"How about we make it four then?" 

  
"Legolas Thrandulion, put me down! Right now," Arwen ordered as she banged on Legolas back. Ignoring the Elven princess, Legolas bowed to Lillian and Glorfindel. 

  
"My Lord, will you please continue the Lady's training for today? She has about two hours left."

  
Stepping beside the human, Glorfindel fought the urge to laugh and answered, "I will."

  
"Thank you." After bowing again he started to walk away saying, "I hope you don't mind, Lady Lillian, Lord Glorfindel, but I have to find a mud puddle to dump this princess in."

  
Chuckling, Glorfindel turned to Lillian, handing her the disregarded staff, and saying, "Lets get started." 

As the two began working on training they heard a yelp in the distance followed by Legolas's voice.  "That was my ear!" 

  
"Put me down!"

  
"I will, once I find that mud puddle … ow! Stop yanking on my ear!"

  
"Then put me down."

  
"No…"  
  
*************************  
  
It was a cool fall day when the noble from Gondor stepped onto one of the many balconies in the Elven-home. Resting his arms against the balcony's rail the young lord looked to the sky as he pondered on his thoughts. It had been a little over three weeks he had arrived in Rivendell seeking answers to dreams.  
  
****************Flashback*************  
  
Two days after he arrived in Rivendell, Boromir found himself in Elrond's study, sitting in an elegant chair. The lord of Imladris was sitting behind his desk, before him, his folded hands rested comfortably on the polished wood. 

  
"You wished to speak with me," asked the Elven-lord, but his voice revealed it was more of a statement than a question.

  
"Yes, my lord I came here seeking your council and the unraveling of hard words, for it is said that your might is in wisdom, not in weapons." Taking a moment the young noble gathered his thoughts, choosing his words with care, "On the eve of a sudden assault a dream came to my brother in trouble sleep; and afterward a like dream came oft to him, and once to me." Taking a breath, Boromir used the short moment to study the Elven-lord. However the only change in the elf's expression was one raised brow. "In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying:

  
  
Seek for the Sword that was broken:  
In Imladris it dwells;  
There shall be counsels taken   
Stronger than Morgul spells  
There shall be shown a token  
That Doom is near at hand,  
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,  
And the Halfing forth shall stand.

  
  
"Of these words we could understand little. And we spoke to our father, Denethor, Lord of Minas Tirith." Boromir paused, feeling the gaze of the Elven-lord sharpen. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not, but the master of Rivendell seemed to be sitting a little straighter than before. But, Boromir could, now, understand why many people felt intimidated under the intense stare of an elf. Boromir felt like he was a young child again, under the knowing watch of a parent after some mischief. Shaking himself mentally, the young noble brought his thoughts together. 

  
"My father gave me these words; That Imladris was an old elvin name of a far northern dale, where Elrond the Half-elvin dwelt, greatest of lore-masters." Boromir, paused, as he leaned back in his chair, before he continued, "Seeing our desperate our need, my brother was eager to heed the dream and seek for Imladris; but since the way full of doubt and danger, I took the journey upon myself. Loathe my father was to give me leave, and long have I wandered roads forgotten, seeking your house, of which many had heard of, but few knew where it lay." Again Boromir paused, taking a breath as he finished his explanation, leaning forward as he did so. "Do you, Lord Elrond, have insight to the question that bedevils my mind?"

  
Nodding the Elven-Lord stated calmly, "Your brother and your dreams speak true, Boromir of Gondor. But I will not speak the answers here." Holding up a hand, Elrond stopped the interruption that younger noble was about to make and continued. "Your questions will be answered at a council held within the week, which you are invited to. Until then, enjoy your stay in Rivendell."

  
Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, but content knowing that his question will be answered, Boromir rose to his feet, bowed, and left the room.  
  
*****************End Flashback***************  
  
Boromir closed his eyes, shaking free of the memory. Since that day he saw many things that he once never believed he would. For only hours later, he had seen the shards of Narsil, the very sword that cut the Ring from Sauron's hand.

  
And it was there, the he first met Isildur's heir. The son of Arathorn, Aragorn. Though Boromir knew it not, then, the man had held his curiosity. However, he had felt unease at the dark man's, gaze. But at the time, he had thought, that perhaps, he had found a possible friend or an ally in this Elvish city. But when the man's heritage was revealed at the council, Boromir wasn't sure what to think of him. 

  
He felt betrayed, in a way. This Aragorn was a full-grown man, yet, he ran from his duties, when he should be in Gondor, ruling. The king return would renew the hope of the people, Boromir knew that. But if this person, this Aragorn, was so small a man then that he would run from his responsibilities, then Gondor truly needed no king. 

  
After the council, though, Boromir had gotten the chance to observe the quiet man a little more. And as much as he had seen, Aragorn didn't cringe from his duties. At the council he was the first, after the wizard, to volunteer aid to the Fellowship. And at this very moment, he was scouting the surrounding areas for enemies and safe paths for travel. A person, who feared his duties, would not have done such. But, if this man did take his responsibilities so seriously, why did he not return to Gondor when he reached adulthood? 

  
Boromir knew that a change of power; even then, would not be an easy one. His father would not have given up control without a fight. But in the end, the right thing for Gondor would have been done. Now, Boromir wasn't sure if Aragorn was what Gondor needed or not. It would be up to the other man to prove his worth. To prove worthy of being Gondor's king, for Boromir would not let it fall to anyone else.

  
Boromir opened his eyes as the sounds of battle reached his ears. Looking down he saw he saw three elves, two male and one female, and with them was the other being that haunted his thoughts of late, the human lady, Lillian. 

  
Throughout his stay here, Boromir was witness to the wisdom of the Elves. Yet he failed to see the wisdom in sending a woman on the quest of the one ring. It was not a woman's place or concern. He could remember, clearly, the first time he had met her. She was quiet and very timid; she had acted as if she wanted to scurry and hide in the shadows to escape his notice, even more so, when his title was given. 

  
Boromir frowned as his thoughts deepened. Lady Lillian didn't appear strong in either actions nor appearance. Though she was pleasant looking, it was obvious that she was in poor health. The woman was too thin. Boromir may not have been able count her ribs beneath her fine dress, or the suspiciously warm cloak she had worn, but her face had been gaunt. It seemed that the elves had taken her in. He was sure that she had a rough life, and felt pity towards her.

  
When the Lord of Rivendell had announced that Lady Lillian was joining the Fellowship, Boromir felt shock and anger rise up in him. How could the Elven-lord, who is said to be one of the wisest, send such a fragile person on a dangerous journey? And when Boromir rose to argue against such a decision, he wasn't the only one. But no matter what was said, the frustrating elf had a counter argument.

  
Sighing, Boromir watched as the three elves tough the young woman how to fight with a staff. He wasn't sure why they weren't teaching her the sword, but there was probably a reason behind it. There often was with Elves. 

  
Walking inside, the noble made a silent promise to himself. Lady Lillian didn't wish to go on the journey, which was made obvious when she ran from the council. She didn't have the skill or experience for combat, though the elves were teaching her how to fight. And that was the right thing to do. At least then she would have some defense. But as a man of Gondor, he would do his best to protect her on this journey. Even if it cost his life, it was the right thing to do.   
  
*****************  
Nearly a month had passed since Frodo was brought to Rivendell, wounded. And since then, many things had changed for him. A weight had settled on his shoulders and Frodo wasn't quite sure if he was ready for such a burden. As the young hobbit wondered through the halls of the Elvish city on a mild morning, his mind raced with thoughts of the past.

  
Earlier that day he had visited Bilbo, who had wished to give Frodo two items. Sting, a sword forged by the Elves and a Mithril shirt. It was a pleasant conversation, though serious, until Bilbo saw the ring. Frodo nearly shuddered at the memory. The elder hobbit had scared him that morning. He had never seen him act that way before; it was like Bilbo had morphed into a monster.

  
But, Frodo knew the reason for the change. The influence of the ring. The ring had a powerful hold on those who listened to its whisper. It changed part of his uncle. And it changed Gollum too, or so Frodo heard. It caused Frodo to wonder. What would the ring do to him?

  
Sighing, Frodo walked to the front garden, and laughed at the scene before him, his spirits lightening. There, his fellow hobbits, each taking turns, teaching Lillian to dance. The young ring bearer had to admit that it did look ridiculous. Though Lillian wasn't tall by human standards, roughly five feet and five inches, to a hobbit she was. It was amusing to see Pippin, who only came to her waist, attempting to dance with her. And from his point of view, Lillian wasn't that bad at it. Her footing was steady if a little hesitant. But they appeared to be having fun. Merry was teasing Pippin about something or another and Sam was telling tales and poems during the break of silence. 

  
Most importantly, Lillian was smiling. During the time Frodo had known her, Lillian proved to be a quiet person, who kept what she felt to herself. And during their first meetings, smiles or laughter from her was very rare. But everyday since that first meeting, the hobbits made every attempt for her to join them when they saw her. 

  
Slowly, they drew her out from behind her quiet wall and she began to talk and laugh more. And Lillian started to put on more weight, thanks to the many hobbit meals they forced down her throat. As the days passed, she began to look healthier. She was beginning to shine. It was dim, but now, she was starting to accept a part of life that she denied herself before.

  
"Frodo, would you like to join us," Lillian's quiet voice asked, interrupting his thoughts. Nodding, he joined them in the fun. And for hours, they played. Pausing only for meals the group talked and played, enjoying the day. Until they saw three figures enter the Elvish city. And they recognized them. The twin sons and Aragorn. 

  
The scouts had returned. And with their return, the quest was about to start.

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The next chapter: The struggle of an exile king.


	9. Chapter 9: The struggle of an exile king

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Chapter 9: The struggle of an exile king. 

The daylight fled and night approached Rivendell as Aragorn knelt before a grave. He gently removed the dirt and vines that had covered it over the years. Aragorn gazed at the statue of a woman with sad eyes. Lifting, a hand he let it glide slowly down her cheek, tenderly, as he recognized the voice behind. 

  
"*She wanted to protect her child…*" Stopping a foot away from his foster son, Elrond continued, "*she thought in Rivendell you would be safe. *" For a moment the human and elf were silent as both reflected on the events of the past before the elf-lord continued. "In her heart, your mother knew you'd be hunted all your life. That you'd never escape your fate." Pausing, Elrond studied the exiled king. Noticing his solemn stance, he knew Aragorn felt the weight of his destiny on his shoulders, a fate that he had neither asked for nor wanted. "The skill of the Elves can reforge the sword of kings…but only you have the power to wield it."

  
Aragorn didn't turn around. Instead he raised his eyes to the statue's face once more, as if he sought from it strength to face the coming task. It was a strength that he feared he lacked. "I do not want that power." Opening his eyes, Aragorn lowered his gaze, "I have never wanted it."

  
"You are the last of that bloodline. There is no other," Elrond stated simply.

  
"I know." They stayed there as minutes passed, each lost in their own thoughts. But as the time passed, Aragorn's thoughts shifted to the events of the council. When his identity and heritage had been revealed to all. He appreciated Legolas defending him, but he couldn't help wishing for his silence. Now that it was revealed, he had to face the destiny given him all the sooner. 

After all the years he spent preparing for it, he still was unsure if he was ready…

  
           Another matter came to Aragorn as he knelt upon the ground, the matter of Lady Lillian joining the Fellowship. He didn't understand his foster father's thinking on this matter. The journey was going to be dangerous and at many times the members may die. It was no place for a woman to be. Especially, one like Lillian, who was a person that was still healing and just beginning to trust.

  
He had only met her a handful of times, and each time they had barely spoken, if at all. But it was enough to cultivate the impression that she had never harmed anything before in her life. And from what he had observed, did not have the heart to. 

  
The quest was a death sentence for her. Lillian was a timid child, still too frightened to embrace the light of the world. One who knew nothing of battle, and would most likely cower at the sight of an enemy. So, what were Elrond and Gandalf thinking sending her on the mission? The answer to that question had not really been answered during the argument at the council.

  
Looking over his shoulder, Aragorn calmly studied his father before asking, "Why did you send Lady Lillian on the quest?"

  
"I believe it is her fate to aid you," was the elf-lord's simple answer. Aragorn's brows drew together in thought as he voiced his question again. 

  
"But why?" Standing up, he faced his foster father, continuing his argument. "She is not of this world. This problem is not hers to solve. It's middle-earth…"

  
"Why was she brought here?" Elrond interrupted, countering with a question of his own.

 Aragorn stared at the elf-lord, and he slowly answered. "To heal. To learn that there is more to life then pain."

  
Nodding his head in acknowledgment, Elrond asked, "Why this time?"

 A spark of understanding entered Aragorn's gaze, but he was not ready to accept the implications. "Perhaps the time corresponds with the time in her own world." 

  
"Perhaps," agreed the Elvin lord. After a moment of silence between them, Elrond asked a final question. "But why after the stab wound?"

  
His eyes narrowed in thought, as Aragorn admitted, "I do not know." Looking in his foster son's eyes, Elrond continued simply. 

  
"I believe these to be signs that Lillian was meant to go on the journey. Why though…" He paused, reflecting on his own thoughts before adding, "I am not sure."

  
And again silence spread between the two. As the minutes passed, Elrond studied his foster son, deciding that it was time to bring up his own topic of conversation.  "Our time is ending. The time of the elves is over." Pausing briefly, knowing that he would bring pain to the younger man, but knowing that it had to be done, he continued. "Arwen's time is ending. Let her take the ship into the West. Let her bare her love for you to the Undying Lands. There it will be evergreen."

  
Aragorn closed his eyes, sadness entering his soul, like rain bleeds into the ground. Opening his eyes, he looked at the Elvin lord replying, "But never more than memory."

  
"I will not leave my daughter here to die!" Elrond said firmly, a note of anger coloring his voice. 

  
"She stays because she still has hope," Aragorn countered.

  
"She stays for you," Elrond interrupted. "She belongs with her people." Silence followed the outburst. The elf and human looking into the other's eyes, their wills silently clashing. Resting one hand on his foster child's shoulder, Elrond said softly but purposefully, "Let her go Aragorn. Do not be the reason for her death. You are mortal. She is elf-kind. It cannot work. Let her be with her people to live the life she was meant to, the immortal life. Let her sail to the Gray Havens." 

  
And with that the Elven lord let go of Aragorn's shoulder and left the human to sort out his emotions and thoughts, alone.

  
  
********************

  
  
Hours later, Aragorn returned to the house of Elrond, pausing, when he spotted the figure on the balcony. 

  
"Lady Lillian," He called out, startling the girl, "what are you doing out this late at night? You should be resting. We set out in the morning and you will need your strength."

Lillian stared down at her hands unsure how to act around the dark-haired man. Before she had discovered that he was a noble, she had talked more freely with him. And it was nice. Though the conversation had been spars, it was comforting to be able to discuss anything at will. The possible friend she had found in this man, she didn't want to lose. But did the fact that he was truly a noble change things between them? Lillian was uncertain. Keeping her eyes down cast, Lillian answered. "I could not sleep." 

  
Stepping onto the balcony, he asked, "Something on your mind?" Resting his hands on the railing, Aragorn looked up at the stars, waiting for her reply.

  
"Yes." Lillian admitted slowly. Keeping his eyes on the stars, the exiled king made a venture. 

  
"Would you like to talk about it?" Lillian bit her lip undecidedly. She did want to talk about it, but … was it okay to burden a noble so? Back home it wasn't, Lillian knew, but was that different here? A couple of moments' of silence passed between them, before Lillian replied. 

  
"You are a man a blood, my lord. I do not wish to burden you with my problems." 

  
Looking towards her, Aragorn's eyebrows drew together in thought. His nobility had place a distance between them that was not there before. Legolas had informed the twins and himself of the event that occurred in the gardens and the reason behind it. The thought of such of horrors occurring to anyone angered him and he could see why Lillian was distrustful. But Aragorn had hoped that she could come to him if needed. 

  
"Lillian," he said softly. "You can speak to me as you will. You would not burden me." Lillian shook her head to the side, choosing to remain silent. Sighing, Aragorn stepped toward her, and with a hand raised her chin up. 

  
"Look at me, Lillian." And he waited, watching the conflict grow in her eyes. Several moments later her eyes locked on his chin and he raised hers a little farther so her gaze met his. "I am a king in exile, Lillian. But even so, my heritage defines my status, not who I am." Pausing for moment he let her think on his words before adding, "I am still the same man you knew when you thought me a simple ranger."

  
Lillian stared at him in silence for a moment, shifting through the conflicting thoughts and emotions. She wanted to believe him… She had started to believe him… But the rules and patterns of her old world still had a strong grip on her. 

  
"But…" Shaking his head, Aragorn interrupted, guessing the question that lay on her tongue. 

  
"The only difference that lay between us now, Lady Lillian is the one of your own making. The knowledge of my birthright has little importance, for it is something I neither craved nor asked for. What path our friendship treads is in your hands to decided." Letting go of her chin, Aragorn returned his gaze to the stars while his hands resting on the railing of the balcony. 

  
Silence stretched between the two humans, but unlike the beginning of their meeting it was no longer uncomfortable. Both of them watched the stars above, lost in their thoughts.

  
Lillian felt her emotions shift once more. The fear that she had when she learned of Aragorn's heritage drained away from her. In a way, Lillian felt she could relate to this quiet man. Both of them had royal blood running in their veins. Though the beings of this world knew not of hers. And both of them wanted it not. Why he did not want to claim his, Lillian could not say. But what she did know was the reason for her silence. She didn't want to acknowledge to others that she was related to Kalin; a tyrant who enjoyed tormenting all those weaker than he.

  
But even if she did claim her own birthright, it wasn't going to do any good. Her blood father ruled Rolian with a tight fist. The people had given up hope that any noble would be just and fare, like her grandparents were. Besides, if even a whispered reached Kalin that she would claim her heritage, Lillian had no doubt that he would have her killed or worse to end them.

  
Her blood father put her in servitude and that is what she was now. A servant, whether or not her blood said otherwise. Looking at her silent companion Lillian realized that she wanted his friendship. Perhaps, such with nobles was possible in this world. 

  
After a slight hesitation, Lillian touched Aragorn's shoulder, and said, "Thank you, Lord Aragorn," and receiving a nod in return. Dropping her hand, Lillian left for her room. She didn't discuss what was troubling her, but one matter was laid to rest. She would be able to sleep now.

  
Aragorn watched the woman leave; knowing that some of the distance had been breached. Most of her past was a mystery, and probably a very dark one, if her actions were any indication. But the shell she had in cased herself in was breaking. And it was good to see someone heal from such a past. It was only a start; she would have many challenges to overcome. But the chance was now open to her… 

  
Returning his gaze to the stars, Aragorn sighed as he continued to think about the conversation with Elrond. He knew what the Elven lord wished him to do… But it hurt his heart at the thought of it. And so the exile king of Gondor stood there, brooding, until at last he looked to the stars for a last time and whispered. "Valar forgive me," and he left to seek the Lady Arwen.

  
  
************************

  
  
"The Ring-bearer is setting out on the quest of Mount Doom." The Lord of Imladris said the next day as sunlight began pierced the morning sky. Slowly the elven lord allowed his gaze to shift to each of the ten companions of the Fellowship, each member ready for the journey ahead. "Of you who travel with him, no oath…" Elrond paused his eyes stopping on Lillian, a small glimpse of sympathy in them, "nor bond is laid to go further than you will. Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of elves" The elven lord eyes stopped briefly on the prince of Mirkwood before moving on to Boromir, "and men…" And slowly Elrond looked to the dwarf and hobbits of the group as he finished he speech, "and all Free Folk go with you." Returning his gaze to the whole group, the elven lord gave them a gesture of farewell, which Legolas and Aragorn returned immediately. 

  
"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer." Gandalf said firmly. Silently, Frodo gave the elvish city one last look before he took the lead and walked to the gates of the city. 

  
Briefly unsure, Frodo asked, "Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?"

  
"Left." The old wizard answered, patting Frodo on the shoulder.

  
And one by one the Fellowship left until Aragorn was the only one left. For one last time, the exiled king glanced at his love.  Meeting Arwen's sad eyes, he gave her a barley noticeable nod and started after the fellowship. After a few minutes of traveling, the Fellowship noticed an elf in their path. 

  
As they stopped the elf said, "I had wished to say good-bye to all of you without a crowd watching." A slight smile crossed Aragorn's lips as he made his way to the front of group. 

  
"Elrohir, it is good of you to come." 

After a quick hug, he replied. "And not see my brother off? Never." And then with a quick glare and a smack to Aragorn's head, Elrohir continued, "* though I might as well since you were being such an idiot. You know better than to always listen to father, Estel. *" Not bothering to let Aragorn say anything in his defense, Elrohir walked past by him, whispering, "* Father is not the only one with a spy network. *" Leaving Aragorn to brood, Elrohir approached Lillian, hugging her gently and talking softly in her ear. "Do not be afraid to trust the other members of the Fellowship, mellon. They will aid you when they can." 

  
A smile graced Elrohir's face when he felt her returning the hug timidly. "And remember to trust in yourself and your heart." Stepping back, breaking the hug, he studied the human female. She was dressed in a simple tunic and trousers with a gray cloak around her shoulders. Her clouded eyes spoke of fear, as did her fists clenched tightly around a staff of elm. Seeing her nod, he added his last piece of advise. "Do not give up on living, Lillian, for if you do, you will truly be dead."

  
And turning to face Legolas, Gandalf, and Aragorn, he left her to think on his advise while he said in Quenya, "*Watch over her, she is not ready for a journey such as this. She will need your protection. *"

  
"*She will have it. *" Aragorn assured. Nodding his head in thanks he continued. 

  
"*And please continue teaching her Sindarin, when you can. I believe it is a powerful aid in her healing. *"

  
Smiling slightly, Legolas replied. "*We will, Elrohir. You can stop mothering the girl now. *" 

  
A smile tugging at his lips, the elf nodded at the three, before making the rest of his good-byes and let the Fellowship continued on their journey.

______________________________________

Like? Hate? Let me know! Please!

The next chapter should be out around Saturday/Sunday.

Chapter 10: Paths twice failed.


	10. Chapter 10: Paths twice failed

Disclaimer: Own nothing. 

**Lady Beriaron:** _Thanks._

**Feanen: **_Thank you!_

_Hope you enjoy the chapter! And, remember to review. Please!_

_                        -Lady Healer._

Chapter 10: Paths twice failed. 

For many days the company traveled, taking small breaks to rest and to eat. It was often during these breaks that conversation warmed the Fellowship through tales and songs. Perhaps, save from the snide comments that the elf and dwarf threw at one another. And it was during these small breaks that Lillian felt more of her shell breaking. 

Through out the traveling, she began to know her companions better, and felt more comfortable around them. And the more she learned of them, the less she feared punishment. More times then not, Lillian was content to simply to listen and observed the others, but there were times when she joined in the conversation as well. Most of the hesitation she had when to speaking to a noble, before, had lessened to a shadow. It was still there, clinging, causing her to bit down a question or comment, but less often then before.

  
Lillian sat next to the fire Sam had lit to cook the meal, grateful for the heat against the chilly air, as she rested her aching feet. She had never had to walk so much in her life. The life of a servant in her blood father's home was hard with few chances for rest, but the terrain was always the same flat mansion floor. The land here was always changing, and Lillian found it tired her out very quickly.

 Rubbing her hands together, Lillian listened to Gandalf as he spoke. "We must hold to this course, west of the Misty Mountains, for 40 days. If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us. From there, our road turns east to Mordor."

  
Hearing her name, the young woman focused her attention to the young hobbit that had called her. Nodding her head she asked softly, "Yes, Sam. What can I do for you?" 

  
"I was wondering, Miss Lillian … if you have any good memories of your world." Pausing for a moment in thought, Sam slowly added, "Maybe, of a poem or a song."

  
Lowing her eyes, Lillian studied the fire as she thought back to her past. There were some stories she remembered from her young childhood before her blood father found her. But could recall only fragments of them. However, after Rena's death, Liz had often told her poems before she fell asleep. And after Liz's death, Lillian had added poetry to her reading sessions. 

  
Nodding her head, Lillian replied quietly, "There are a couple of poems I remember."

  
"Will you tell us one?" Frodo asked from his spot beside Sam.  
           Closing her blue-gray eyes; Lillian nodded again, thinking of which one to tell. After a couple of minutes she began. 

  
  
"All things are wrought of melody,  
Unheard, yet full of speaking spells;  
Within the rock, within the tree,  
A soul of music dwells.  
  
To harmony all growth is set;  
Each seed is but a music note,  
From which each plant, each violet.  
Evolves its purple note.  
  
Compact of melody, the rose  
Woos the soft wind with strain on strain   
Of crimson; and the lily blows  
Its white stars to the rain.  
  
The trees are paeans, and the grass  
One long, green fugue, beneath the sun;  
Song is his life, and all shall pass,  
Shall cease when song is done." 

  
  
Opening her eyes, she focused her attention on the fire once more and stated, "That is one of the few poems that I can remember clearly."

  
"It was beautiful. Sad, but beautiful, Miss Lillian." Commented Sam. 

  
A couple of moments Legolas's voice questioned, "Do you know any happier poems, Lillian?" 

Jumping slightly when he had spoken behind her, Lillian bit back a comment and replied. "One." 

  
"Will you tell us it, then?" The elf asked as he sat down beside her. Lillian was about to decline, when Pippin voice pleaded with her. 

  
"Please Lillian!" Looking around, she noticed that she had the attention of the rest of the Fellowship and silently she groaned. She did not wish to have everyone's attention, but now she did. And though Lillian was uncomfortable with the attention of others she no longer feared it.

  
With a slight grumble of 'fine' which brought smiles to the other members she paused, and then requested, "However, when I am done. I request that one of you tell your own." After she saw some of the members nod, Lillian began again.

  
  
"There are loyal hearts, there are spirits brave.  
There are souls that are pure and true;  
Then give to the world the best you have,  
And the best shall come back to you.  
  
Give love, and love to your heart will flow,  
A strength in your utmost need;  
Have faith, and a score of hearts will show  
Their faith in your word and deed.  
  
For life is the mirror of king and slave,  
`Tis just what you are and do;  
Then give to the world the best you have,  
And the best will come back to you."

  
  
Out of all the poems she had read throughout life, this was one of the poems she disagreed most with. In her world, giving ones best did not do much for you except receive lesser punishment if the nobles were displeased. The contradictions she found in the poem, compared with her life, was probably why she remembered it so well. However, in this world she began to see some truth to the words…

  
"That was lovely, Miss Lillian." Sam commented, breaking though her thoughts. 

Nodding her head, Lillian replied softly. "Thank you, Sam. However I do believe it someone else's turn."

  
"Quite right." Pippin stated before exclaiming, "You should sing Bilbo's song, from the inn, Frodo!" 

  
"Yes, Frodo. We can sing in with you in parts. And I do believe that Gandalf can join us." Merry said. 

Raising an eyebrow, Gandalf grumbled. "Oh, I can? Would this be the ridiculous song that Bilbo was rather fond of is it?"

  
Nodding, Frodo answered, "The very same."

  
Leaning back on perched on a stone, Gandalf said, "Well then, Aragorn and Legolas should be able to help as well. They also have heard this song as well." Ignoring Aragorn's subtle glare, Gandalf continued, "We shall each sing two verses. Starting with each of the hobbits, then with Aragon and then Legolas. I shall end the song."

  
"There is an odd number of verses in the song." Aragorn stated bluntly.

  
"Umm … there is, isn't there?" Gandalf said, sounding 'surprised.' "Well, I guess, I will sing only one verse then." Aragorn just shook his head as the hobbits started to converse who should go first. After a couple minutes, Frodo started to sing: 

  
  
"There is an inn, a merry old inn  
Beneath an old gray hill  
And there they brew a beer so brown  
That the Man in the Moon himself came down  
One night to drink his fill.  
  
The ostler has a tipsy cat  
That plays a five-stringed fiddle;  
And up and down he runs his bow,  
Now squeaking high, now purring low,  
Now sawing in the middle."  
  


  
Then Merry started to chant: 

  
  
"The landlord keeps a little dog  
That is mighty fond of jokes;  
When there's good cheer among the guests,  
He cocks an ear at all the jests  
And laughs until he chokes.  
  
They also keep a horned cow  
As proud as any queen;  
But music turns her head like ale,  
And makes her wave her tufted tail  
And dance upon the green."

  
  
As Merry finished, Pippin sang:

  
  
"And O! The rows of silver dishes  
And the store of silver spoons!  
For Sunday* there's a special pair,  
And these they polish up with care  
On Saturday afternoons.  
  
The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,   
And the cat began to wail;  
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,  
The cow in the garden madly pranced,  
And the little dog chased his tail."

  
  
Then Sam chanted: 

  
  
"The Man in the Moon took another mug,  
And then rolled beneath his chair;  
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,  
Till in the sky the stars were pale,  
And dawn was in the air.  
  
Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat:  
'The white horses of the Moon,  
They neigh and champ their silver bits:  
But their master's been and drowned his wits,  
And the Sun'll be rising soon!'"  
  


  
And slightly reluctantly, Aragorn chanted:

  
  
"So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,  
A jig that would wake the dead:  
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,  
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:  
'It's after three!' he said  
  
They rolled the Man slowly up the hill   
and bundled him into the Moon,  
While his horses galloped up in rear,  
And the cow came capering like a deer,  
And a dish ran up with the spoon"

  
  
Then Legolas sang clearly:

  
  
"Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle;  
The dog began to roar,  
The cow and the horses stood on their head;  
The guest all bounded from their beds  
And danced upon the floor.  
  
With a pings and a pong the fiddle-stings broke!  
The cow jumped over the Moon,  
And the little dog laughed to see such fun,  
And the Saturday dish went off at a run  
With the silver Sunday spoon."  
  


  
Then lastly Gandalf finished the song:

  
  
"The round Moon rolled behind the hill,  
As the Sun raised up her head.  
She* hardly believed her fiery eyes;  
For though it was day, to her surprise  
They all went back to bed!"

  
  
After the rest of the Fellowship finished their chuckling, the hobbits and Lillian began to continue their combat lesson with their own teachers. Roughly, only fifteen minutes had past since they took a break and it was agreed that this one would be longer for the purpose of training the inexperienced. During the training, Aragorn gave further instructions to both parties, as Gandalf and Gimli talked. 

  
"If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I know they've not…" Gimli said earning a snort for the elf. And he could have sworn that he heard Elven-prince mutter something like, "Why would we bother… " After a glare in said elf direction, Gimli continued, "I'd say we were taking the long way 'round." Looking at their wizard companion, the dwarf said, "Gandalf, we could pass through the mines of Moria. My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome."

  
Shaking his head, Gandalf replied firmly, "No, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice."

  
Suddenly, Merry's cries of "For the Shire!" caught everyone's attention. Lowering her staff, Lillian turned around and laughed as she saw two small hobbits tackle Boromir to the ground. 

  
As the two hobbits wrestle with the noble from Gondor, Pippin cried, "Hold him. Hold him down, Merry!"

  
After a few minutes of this, Aragorn rose to his feet, and attempted to help his fellow man, saying, "Gentlemen, that's enough." But Aragorn landed on the flat on his back as the hobbits pulled his legs from underneath him.

  
As Lillian continued to watch the wrestling, Legolas left his place to jump up to a higher cliff, looking out to the distance for something. 

  
Seeing a dark smudge against the sky, Sam asked, "What is that?"

  
"Nothing," Gimli dismissed. "It's just a wisp of cloud."

  
Pausing in his wrestling match with the halflings, Boromir said, "It's moving fast. Against the wind." 

As the dark mark came into his view, Legolas shouted suddenly. "Crebain from Dunland!" 

  
"Hide," ordered Aragorn as he started to grab the packs around him, throwing them under a little space under rock hanging. 

  
"Hurry," shouted Boromir as he helped the hobbits hide. Sam joining them after putting the fire out. As soon as the hobbits were hidden, the Gondorian Men hid themselves, not worrying about the others; as both Gandalf and Gimli were hidden. Running from the cliff edge, Legolas grabbed Lillian's wrist and headed towards some bushes. Quickly, the Elven prince helped Lillian roll beneath them, before swiftly joining her.

  
Minutes later, hundreds of black birds flew over their heads. Lillian, wasn't sure why these birds had such an effect on the Fellowship but remain silent, knowing that there had to be a reason for it.

  
Several minutes after the crows left their sight, the members of the Fellowship emerged from their hiding places. 

  
"Spies of Saruman," Gandalf as but spat. "The passage south is being watched. We must take the pass of Caradhras." Following Gandalf's glaze, Lillian shuddered, when they stopped on the snowy mountain peaks in the distance. She had a feeling, that things were about to get worse, for everyone.

  
  
********************

  
  
And once more the company set out towards their destination. And with great speed they crossed the lands and much time was recovered. But as they continued the terrain began to change. With every step it grew steeper and loose rocks caused many members to stumble. And with every change to the land around them, the pace slowed. 

  
The closer they got to the mountain pass, the chill wind bit more fiercely at them. And no more then an hour later, white flakes began to fall from the darkened sky, kissing the travelers in a light flutter.

  
But still Aragorn and Gandalf lead them on at a slow pace. Faster the snow began to fall and it blew across the members of the fellowship and quickly gathered around each companion's feet, until it became harder still to walk in the white blanket around them. An hour later a tired, cold Lillian stumbled in the white fluff, dropping to the ground below. And there she lay, slightly dazed, until a hand appeared in her line of vision. Slowly, Lillian took the offered hand and the noble of Gondor pulled her to her feet. 

  
Chaffing her arms slightly, Boromir continued to follow the others while saying, "Do not falter now, Lady Lillian. We'll take a rest soon!" 

Barely could they hear Sam's breathless complaints as he walked in front of them. "I don't like this at all. Snow's all right on a fine morning, but I like to be in bed while it's falling. I wish this lot would go off to Hobbition! Folk might welcome it there." And for minutes his complaining went on until they stopped. 

  
Looking ahead, Lillian barely made out the figures of Aragorn and Gandalf gesturing towards one another, and she guessed that they were discussing something of importance. The screaming winds kept any of the words from traveling to her ears.

  
But as they halted, the wind died down to a light whisper and the snow ceased; Lillian was thankful for small favors as she wrapped her snow covered cloak around herself more tightly. She was cold, tired, and all she wanted to do was crawl into somewhere warm and fall asleep. But no such place existed here. Lillian sniffled as she observed the other members of the Fellowship. Each of them was cold, except, it seemed, the elf. How he could travel in this weather without a cloak on and still not look cold... She did not know, but knew his ease was vastly unfair. Turning her gaze away from the back of the snow touched blond, Lillian studied the other members. Some of the companions were starting to flush with cold, and she knew that she probably was as well.

  
As the wizard and future king discussed, Lillian knelt to the ground, caring not that her knees were becoming soaked with the snow, only that she needed to rest her weary feet. And around her the hobbits stood, leaning lightly on one another, for strength as they discuss or complained about a variety of things. Slowly, under the hobbits' soft chatter, the girl's eyes began to droop and she nearly fell asleep, before a slender hand shook her awake. 

  
"Come, Lady Lillian. We must continue," came Legolas's musical voice beside her. Nodding her head, Lillian stumbled to her feet with the aid of the elf and continued on. And for a few minutes the group continued, but after Lillian stumbled the fifth time, Legolas kneeled down before her, taking his weapons off his back as it faced towards her. 

  
Looking over his shoulder, Legolas said firmly, "Climb onto my back, Lillian. I will carry you until the next break." Too tired to wonder or care why a noble would offer such a thing, she did as she was told, and slowly climbed onto the Elven-prince's back, wrapping her arms gently around his neck and her legs around his waist. Using one of his arms to brace Lillian under her legs, Legolas stood and continued on, only sinking slightly into the snow with the added weight. Keeping a grip on his weapon with his free hand, the elf crossed the distance to the horse and laid them in his pack, taking care that he could draw them in a moment notice should the need arise. And so as Legolas walked beside the horse, Bill, Lillian rested her tired head on his shoulder and slowly her eyes began to droop again until she submit to darkness.  
  


Less then an hour and a half later, the storm worsened, and boulders fell from the mountains forcing the company to stop. From her position on Legolas back, Lillian shivered. 

  
"We cannot go further tonight. Call it what you will, but there is a fell voice on the air." Boromir stated.

Leaning on his fellow hobbits, Pippin moaned. "What can we do?" 

  
"Either stop where we are, or go back," answered Gandalf. Pausing for a moment, he added further, "It is no good going on. Only a little higher, if I remember rightly, this path leaves the cliff and runs into a wide shallow trough at the bottom of a long hard slope. We should have no shelter there from snow, or stones-or anything else." 

  
"And it is no good going back while the storm holds," Aragorn commented, adding his own output. "We have passed no place on the way up that offered more shelter than this cliff-wall we are under now."

  
"Shelter!" Sam muttered as he and the other hobbits started to cuddle together for warmth. "If this is shelter, then one wall and no roof make a house."

For a short amount of time, the fellows gathered closely to the wall for what little protection it offered. Legolas sat on the ground, Lillian in his lap, an extra blanket around her cold form. Tapping her face lightly, Legolas commanded, "Wake up, Lillian. It is not safe for you to sleep." And after a couple more taps, she slowly opened her eyes, grumbling softly underneath her breath.

  
After Frodo fell into the snow, he himself began to fall into the world of dreams only to be awakened by Boromir lifting him up. 

  
"This will be the death of the halflings and Lady Lillian, Gandalf. It is useless to sit here until the snow goes over our heads. We must do something to save ourselves."

Drawing a leather flask from his pack, Gandalf handed it to Boromir, saying, "Just a mouthful each-for all of us. It is very precious. It is miruvor, the cordial of Imladris. Elrond gave it to me at our parting. Now, pass it around." 

  
After a gulp the group felt their strength renewed, but the storm continued on and the question of a fire was brought up. And with Gandalf's consent the group tried to light the fire. But time and again, the wood stayed unlit. 

Until, with a sigh, Gandalf rose to his feet and pointed his staff at the fire. "Naur an edraith amen!" and with a thrust of his staff the wood burst into fire. Sitting down, the wizard informed the rest of the company, "If any are to see or hear, then I at least am revealed to them. I have written Gandalf is here in signs that all can read from Rivendell to the mouths of Anduin."

  
And for hours, the Fellowship stayed there, waiting for the storm to pass. The only member to leave the shelter was the elf, who did some scouting when the weather lightened a bit. And when the storm passed, the company set out, leaving the pass of Caradhras they way they came, until they left the mountain.

  
At the bottom of the mountain the company halted again as they rested and discussed their options. And after many debates, they agreed, with one eager member and all others reluctant, to head to mines of Moria in the morning. And with that the members set down to rest while Legolas stood watch. 

An hour later the sounds of wailing and howling reached the Fellowship's ears.  Aragorn leaped to his feet as he stated, "The wind is howling with wolf-voices. The Wargs have come west of the Mountains!"

  
Quickly the experienced members started to guide to set up their defense, knowing that it would not be long before their enemy would be among them. They gathered around the fire in a circle, their backs facing the hot flame as they were instructed. Each person who had the least amount of combat experience stood between those who had more. All except Lillian, who was frozen in fear. 

  
Pulling her behind him and Legolas, Boromir commanded, "Stay behind us!" Less than ten minutes later, each member had their chosen weapon in their hands and the Wargs started to appear. 

Stepping slightly forward from his place in circle, which was between Merry and Pippin, Gandalf held his staff aloft. "Listen, Hound of Sauron," he called out. "Gandalf is here. Fly, if you value your foul skin! I will shrivel you from tail to snout, if you come within this ring." The wolf growled and leaped at the old wizard, but with a yelp, it fell to the ground; dead by the elvish arrow that pierced it's throat.

  
Gandalf and Aragorn strode forward, but the watching eyes vanished as the hunting packs fled. The peace did not last for long, for only minutes later, the Wargs returned, in greater numbers than before. The Wargs attacked the group and the Fellowship fought back. All except Lillian, as fear still gripped her, but safe in her position behind the elven-Prince and the noble of Gondor.

  
Swiftly, Legolas released his arrows, causing many Wargs to fall in quick session, before he was force to draw his twin daggers, slicing one lunging hound across the face and plugging the other in it's neck. Boromir's sword slashed the throat of another Warg, giving the needed space for Legolas to return to his bow and let it sing, allowing more hounds to fall victim to elvish arrows. 

And as Aragorn and Gimli took down their own batch of Wargs, helping protect the hobbits as they did, Gandalf started to chant. "Naur an edraith amen! Naur dan i. Ngaurhoth!" And suddenly a tree above them burst into flame. And as the fire spread, the Wargs that did not die from it fled.

  
When the fire died to smoke, and their enemies did not return, Sam said, sheathing his sword, "What did I tell you, Mr. Pippin? Wolves won't get him. That was an eye-opener, and no mistake! Nearly singed the hair off my head!"

  
And with morning light, Legolas gathered his undamaged arrows from the Warg carcasses, and the Fellowship started off towards Moria.

_________________________

Like? Hate? Let me know! Please!

First note I like to make. I did not write the poems typed in this chapter. The first poem was called, Unheard by Madison Cawein. And the second poem is called; There are Loyal Hearts by Madeline S. Bridges.

Second note.  I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out.

Chapter 11: Moria.


	11. Chapter 11: Moria

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Ssam:** _Wow! I'm glad you have enjoyed the story thus far and that it had such impact on you. Thanks!_

**Ireth Lossehelin:** _Thank you!_

**Xnemesis:** _I realized that around chapter 3 and 4 that Lillian may seem Mary Sueish and I tried to sway from that since then. (But I find that kind of hard to do when I don't have a clear definition of what exactly is a Mary Sue. Just a very blurry one.) Whether I have succeeded… I don't really know. I guess, that will be up to the readers to decide._

**LT:**_ Thanks! _

_Well, Hopefully everyone will enjoy this chapter! And please remember to review!_

_                        -Lady Healer._

Chapter 11: Moria.

"The walls … of Moria." Gimli breathed in awe. Lillian stopped, ready to collapse, as exhaustion seeped into her bones. They had walked all day with few breaks since the wargs attacked. She shuddered at the memory of the horrible beast. Lillian once thought that nothing could frighten her worse then the nobles of her world did. But she was wrong. 

Something did. She could remember the hounds charging, of clawed feet digging into the ground. Their huge bodies with matted fur and their jaws open wide, revealing layers of jagged teeth. But it was their eyes that frightened her the most. Red eyes, filled with a hunger for blood. 

The fear had frozen her to the spot and she stood, unable to do more than hold the staff uselessly in her hands. Nothing in her miserable life could have prepared her to face such creatures. In that moment of their attack, the very aura that surrounded the wolves made the nobles of her world seem kind in comparison. And Lillian did not like the thought of that. 

But she did not have to fight them, and for that she was grateful. Lord Boromir had pulled her behind him and Lord Legolas. They had protected her. And that concept alone baffled her mind. Nobles in her world would never have done such; they would have given her to the wargs. 

Feeling a touch on her shoulder, she opened her weary eyes. "Just a little farther, Lillian," Aragorn said. "We will stop to rest, soon." The girl nodded before continuing the walk as Estel fell in slightly behind her. And as she walked, Lillian returned to her pondering. 

Many things had changed for her when she fell into the world of Middle-Earth. It wasn't just the setting or the people either. She, herself, had changed. Lillian could feel it, and it frightened her, but at the same time she was excited. When she first arrived she was too scared to do anything, but now she wanted to do everything. And that realization, Lillian felt shock and confusion enter her system.

Pausing in her steps for a moment, and gaining some confused looks from the other members of the Fellowship, her thoughts raced. Why was the fear gone? But the answer came to her. They protected her… They had befriended her… They had treated her like an equal…

  
Since the beginning, the nobles of this world had treated her with kindness. And Boromir put her life before his. None of this could be a charade.

But would she be able stand in the presence of a stranger and not feel the choke of fear? Lillian wasn't sure. With that last piece of fear, for at least this group, gone it left a wake of emotions that she did not understand or know how to deal with. 

"Lillian?" Aragorn's voice cut through her mind. 

"Yes, Lord Aragorn?"  

"Is there something bothering you," he questioned as they began to walk once more. 

Shaking her head, Lillian replied quietly, "No, there is not, my lord. I'm just tired."

"Lillian." The ranger said, putting a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. "Titles are not necessary, they weren't before and they are not now." 

As the girl struggled with that, Aragorn watched her. The conflict in her eyes revealed the troubles that lay within. Something was bothering her. But he wasn't sure what. Nor would he push her. When she was ready, she would open up. 

Finally, Lillian shook her head, "I can't…" Many of the rules of her world still had a tight grip on the woman. But Aragorn could see that those laws were starting to lose their hold on her as the days passed. He nodded. 

"Perhaps, one day we will be able to forget titles among us." After seeing her nod, Aragorn passed her, making his way to the front. Silence passed through the group as they continued traveling, before it was interrupted by Gimli. 

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Several clanks followed the statement as the Dwarf tapped the wall with his ax.

"Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten," Replied Gandalf.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" At Legolas's sarcastic question, Lillian groaned. Since the beginning of the journey, the dwarf and elf had sniped at each other, and she had grown weary of it. Many times, now, she felt like lecturing them like the children they were, but each time the little fear left had stopped her. But now that the fear of them was gone she didn't know what she would do. She was no longer certain that the rules would hold her back and at the moment she was too tired to care about most.

"This is where the Elven-way from Hollin ended." Gandalf explained, as they walked. "Holly was the token of the people of that land, and they planted it here to mark the end of their domain; for the West-door was made chiefly for their use in their traffic with the Lords of Moria. Those were happier days, when there was still close friendship at times between folk of different race, even between Dwarves and Elves."

"It was not the fault of the Dwarves that the friendship waned," Gimli said.

"I had have not heard that it was the fault of the Elves," countered Legolas. 

"Enough, you two," The woman exclaimed, her tired voice sharp. "You are adults, yet act you like children! Either behave yourselves around the other or hold your tongues behind your teeth!" 

The members of the Fellowship blinked, and then blinked again as they stared at the human woman in shock. This was the first time Lillian had raised her voice against any one of them. But as they stared at her they began to see the difference in her.

Her eyes were like an approaching storm, the anger and frustration stirring their grey depths. Despite her tiredness, she stood straight and held her chin high. Her gaze was locked on the dwarf and elf, but after following it, the Fellowship realized that she did not meet their eyes. 

But at that moment, the companions saw a glimpse of the person Lillian was underneath her broken shell. And there, Aragorn and Legolas saw the strength that Elrohir had told them of. 

But it faded quickly; and she collapsed inside herself once more. Her head returned to the bowed position that they knew far too well. And for many a time, the Fellowship wondered if they had seen her fury at all. 

Lillian wished the ground would shallow her up as the companions continued to stare at her. She wasn't sure what came over her. But, throughout the journey when the two had sniped at each other, Lillian could feel the frustration swelling in her. And she had held her tongue. But why couldn't she now? It was not a servant's place to lecture a noble. And those who did were punished. 

And so with her head bowed, she waited for the punishment. But as she waited, Lillian realized that she wasn't afraid of reprimand, like she was before. And as she pondered on her thoughts, Lillian came to the conclusion that it was because that they wouldn't hurt her, whatever the penalty would be. 

Chuckling, Gandalf said, "The Lady is right. This journey would be much easier if you two were friendlier." Moments later Gandalf walked towards a smooth spot on the wall that was shadowed by two trees. And while he muttered under his breath, the wizard let his hands pass over the surface. 

The moonlight shone down from the heavens above, sparks of light began to flit over the stone. Slowly lines grew across the rock face, at first dim, before developing brilliance.

"There are the emblems of Durin," cried Gimli as the symbols on the door became clear.

"And there is the Tree of the High Elves," Legolas said. 

"And the Star of the House of Feanor," Gandalf finished naming the symbols. "They are wrought of ithildin that mirrors only starlight and moonlight, and sleeps until it is touched by one who speaks words now long forgotten in Middle-Earth. It is long since I heard them, and I thought deeply before I could recall them." 

"What does the writing say," Frodo asked as he tried to read the writing on the arch. "I thought I knew the elf-letters, but I cannot read these."

"The words are in the elven-tongue of the West of Middle-earth in the Elder Days," Gandalf answered. "They say; The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak friend, and enter." 

"What do you suppose that means?" asked Merry.

"It's simple. If you are a friend you speak the password and the doors will open." Gandalf faced the door, his staff slightly aloft, "Annon edhellen, edro hi amen! Fennas nogothrim, lasto beth lammen!" And for a moment every one was silent as they waited, but the light only dimmed a little. 

After a couple seconds, Pippin looked up at the elf beside him and commented, "Nothing's happening." 

Several attempts later, Gandalf looked at the door again, muttering to himself. "I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves … Men and orcs."

"What are you going to do then," questioned Pippin. 

"Knock your head against these doors Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them…" Gandalf snapped in frustration. 

The words struck Lillian like a slap in the face. That very act reminded her of the court of Kalin. And it raised a bitter memory of when she was a young child, naïve to the world, and first felt the sting of a noble's anger and the whipping that followed it. 

But instead of fear at such a remembrance, a different emotion ballooned up in its place. 

Anger. 

Clenching her fists at her side, Lillian closed her eyes. She had to fight and push the memory aside to regain control of herself. Anger was not a new emotion for her, but never had it had this much force. Before, her fear ruled her actions; now it seemed that barrier was too weak to hold the other emotion back any longer… 

"I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions," Gandalf continued, unaware of the effect that his words had on the young woman. 

"Stop it, Master Gandalf!" The words left Lillian mouth, a tint of anger coloring it as she continued to fight between past and present. Her back was straight, but her head was bowed and her eyes closed. Seconds passed as the rest of the Fellowship watched in silence, before Lillian managed to push back the memory. Lifting her head, she opened her eyes to reveal their stormy appearance. 

"I understand your frustrations, Master Gandalf, but there was no cause to take it out on another for a simple question." As the words left her mouth, Lillian wanted to hide. In her anger, she'd made a mistake. Since she arrived in this world she was given an opportunity to change her circumstances. 

In her fear, she clung to the rules of her world for safety. And now, in her anger, she had crossed those lines… Servants did not speak to nobles or others of high rank, much less lecture them. But she had. And now retribution must be paid. Though they over-looked her first error, something she was still confused about, they would surely not overlook this… 

"It's alright, Lillian. I know Gandalf didn't mean…" Pippin started to say. But Lillian interrupted, her voice soft. 

"No, Pippin. It is not." Lillian's eyes had returned to an unremarkable blue-gray. And before the eyes of the Fellowship, shrank back into her shell. It was that moment that the companions realized that she was crossing another bridge in her healing. And that thought alone, brought a great joy to them. 

Her eyes down cast to the floor, the human woman questioned quietly, "What is to be my punishment?"

The other members of the Fellowship bit back a groan of frustration as a shared thought crossed their minds. The customs of her world had to go. She had to learn that every once in a while, when the situation called for it, it was all right to yell at someone. 

Shaking his head with a sigh, Gandalf replied, "Nothing, child. I will try to find the opening words." 

Lillian blinked. She wasn't going to be punished? Not even slapped on the wrist for forgetting her place? Every time, she thought she had figured these strange nobles out, they did something that baffled her again. She was starting think it would be better if she didn't try to understand them. That way, she would at least have fewer headaches…

And slowly, the members of the fellowship wandered off as attempt after attempt failed to open the doors. Sinking to the ground by one of the trees, Lillian closed her eyes, taking the little break that was given while she heard Aragorn say in the distance, "Mines are no place for a pony. Even one so brave as Bill."

Cracking a tired eye open, Lillian looked in the direction of his voice and saw the ranger removing the tack and extra packs from the pony. Sam was petting its nose sadly and Lillian smiled as the hobbit whispered goodbyes. Sam would miss, Bill, of that she had no doubt. 

As Aragorn guided Bill towards the exit, Lillian closed her eyes and the world became distant. She was neither asleep nor was she awake, somehow in-between states and heard the muffled sound of something hitting the water followed by words that were too quiet to decipher. 

  
           Many minutes past while she was in this state, falling closer to sleep with every passing seconds, until something was landed near her with a clank.  Groggily, Lillian opened her eyes and spotted Gandalf's staff next to her as the wizard sat down on a rock, exclaiming, "Oh, it's useless!"

 Frodo stood up then, facing the door. "It's a riddle. 'Speak friend and enter.' What's the elven word for 'friend'?" 

"Mellon." Lillian answered quietly, still waking from her semi sleep. It was the one word of elvish she could remember and actually pronounced without too much trouble. But it was also the first word that she had learned, thanks to Elrohir's repeated use of it. And that made it special, besides its meaning. 

And as the password was spoken the doors opened. And slowly the Fellowship made their way inside. Standing up, Lillian saw Legolas beside her, studying her with his blue eyes. 

A couple seconds later, the elf asked, "Will you be all right entering the mines?"

  
Lillian blink, surprise at the question but she nodded quickly. She saw the elf pause before entering the mines himself; and followed the hobbits as they entered the mines. She was slightly confused at the worry of the elf. Darkness didn't scare her. It never had. Back in her world, the shadows were her ally, shielding her from the nobles' eyes. She would not cower at it now. 

As Lillian's thoughts continued, she heard Gimli say, "Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves. Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone! This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a mine. A mine!"

As the light from Gandalf's staff lit the surrounding area, Lillian froze. Seeing skeletons with arrows buried in them was never a good sign, in any world. Ahead, she saw, Boromir stop and heard his reply. "This is no mine. It's a tomb."

Gimli looked around, grief entering his eyes as he rushed to one of the skeletons, shouting, "No. No… No!" 

Pulling an arrow from one of the dead, Legolas studied it before a look of disgust crossed his face before notching an arrow. "Goblins." As the experienced members of the group draw their weapons, a cold feeling started to settle in Lillian. If all these, Dwarves? didn't survive a battle with goblins. Then how could their little group? 

Boromir locked his gaze with Aragorn, "We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here. Now, get out of here. Get out." Backing out, Lillian felt something wrap around her ankle before she was yanked off her feet as a scream tore itself from her lips attracting other members of the Fellowship. In the darkness she thought she saw Frodo dragged along the ground as well, but could not be sure.

"Strider!" Swiftly, Legolas released his arrow, hitting the creature's limb, but not seeming to have any effect. As Aragorn and Boromir rushed to aid their companions, the elf shot again at the limb holding the human female. 

And the creature jerked in pain as the arrow struck a nerve, throwing Lillian in the process. Through the air, the woman sailed, her body twisting out of control, stopping abruptly when her ribs made contact with a tree. The scream died on her lips as she fell to the unforgiving ground, her eyes closing as darkness sank in. 

"Lillian!" Several voices cried as they saw what occurred, but their hands were full. Boromir sliced at the tentacle, one of many that were still holding Frodo while Aragorn cut at another. 

"Gimli," Legolas shouted as he released another arrow, getting the same result as his first attempt. "Lillian is in need of your aid!" 

Rushing out of the mines, the Dwarf said, "Finally the elf admits my strength." Quickly he made his way to the prone woman. Upon seeing blood, he whispered, "Lass, this is going to hurt either you or me." Carefully, but quickly, knowing that time could not be wasted, Gimli picked her up, struggling because of her size, and carried her back into the mines. 

Aragorn hacked off another tentacle, causing the creature to release its hold on Frodo. And as Frodo fell, Boromir caught him. Together the humans ran for the mines, Frodo still in Boromir arms. 

"Run," the ranger yelled, defending the other man against attack. 

As Boromir made his way towards the opening, he called out. "Legolas!" All ready heeding the man's wishes, the elf loosed the arrow on his bow, hitting the creature's eye and causing a howl of pain and anger. Just as the other members rushed into the mine the enraged monster griped the door, sending it crumbling. 

Sealing the entrance for good. 

For several seconds, everything was quiet save their own labored breathing. But as the breathing started to return to normal, the Dwarf broke the silence. "Aragorn, Lillian is in need of healing." 

Using his magic, Gandalf relit the light at the end of the staff allowing Aragorn to make his way to the woman as Gimli sat her on the ground. 

  
Slowly, after checking for a pulse, and sighing in relief when he felt it, Aragorn looked for wounds. 

There was running blood from her temple. Grabbing a cloth and his water skin, the ranger wetted it and gently cleaned the small scrape on her forehead. It was a minor injury and the ranger breathed easier, concluding that she gained it when she hit the ground, but not by colliding with the tree. After wrapping it with a bandage Gandalf had handed him, Aragorn continued his search for wounds. 

Seconds later he stated, "She has two fractured ribs. I will need more cloth to bind them. There is nothing else I can do." After the needed bandages were handed to him, the other members turned their backs out of respect to Lillian's privacy, while the ranger expertly and professionally bound her torso. 

After finishing, Aragorn made a quick a second inspection, before addressing the rest of the group.  "She will be fine as long as she is allowed rest, but she will sleep for a least a few hours."

  
The others looked at the man in disbelief. "We can not stay here," Boromir hissed. "We need to move quickly." 

"Well, then," Gandalf looked down at him. "You shall have the honor of carrying the lady." 

  
The human lord gave her the once over, and then, with the calm and expertise of a thousand battlefield situations began to give orders. "Merry, take the lady's water skin; Pippin, her staff. Sam, split her satchel between yourself and Frodo." Unconsciously, each hobbit looked to Aragorn and waited for his silent nod. The move did not go unnoticed by Boromir. "Master Dwarf," he said pointedly not looking to Isildurs's heir. "If you would hold my sword?" He knelt and ever so gently lifted the now much lighter woman. Placing one hand under her knees and the other braced against her shoulder he stood in time to listen to Gimli complain.

"Why do you have me carry your weapon? Why not the elf?" 

"We will need a scout," Aragorn quickly diffused the situation. "This is rightfully your cousin's home, but now it is overrun and we will need Legolas's keen ears and sight unhindered." 

With slight grumbling from the dwarf, whom the company ignored, they started walking with Gandalf in the lead for many hours. Through out the journey, the company rested. Sometimes for only a few minutes and but with a few longer periods of time for meals and some sleep to recover lost strength. It was during such a rest at the bottom of a stairwell that four of the members found themselves unable to sleep and thus sat around the unconscious form of Lillian, each in their own thoughts. 

It was on this rest that Legolas was chosen to take the first watch shift, yet there was little need to set one for the three other companions showed no signs of drowsiness. Grabbing a spare blanket from his pack, the noble of Gondor carefully wrapped it around the woman. Feeling Lillian's forehead, he was relieved when it was cool to his touch. 

"There is no fever, which is a hopeful sign. The added warmth should do her good," Boromir said quietly before taking his place beside the dwarf, who had already, given his sword back at the first break. "I fear for her, it has been a day or more already, yet she has shown no sign of waking."

"She was in poor health when she began this journey and was exhausted when we reached Moria. Her body is trying to recover from more then just the recent wound. She may be out for several more days." Aragorn stated from his seat on the stairs, his arms resting on his knees. Gimli nodded his head in agreement. 

"The lass, is lucky to be alive. That blow could have killed her in her state." 

Legolas's blue eyes still focus on the darkness around, scanning for any enemies, he commented, "Yet, she is in much better health then she was when she arrived in Rivendell."

A silence fell around them while each of them reflected on their own thoughts. Until the noble from Gondor broke it, a note of disdain coloring his voice.  "She should never have been made to come." 

Aragorn closed his blue-gray eyes, choosing to remain silent, pondering his own thoughts, as the elf replied. 

"But she was." Legolas paused briefly to collect his thoughts. "After I first started training Lillian, I had many discussions with Lord Elrond." The elf pointy ignored the exiled king's raised eyebrow and continued with his speech. "During those talks, many different reasons were uncovered as to why she was being sent on this quest. Yet, I feel, like you do, that she should have remained in Rivendell." 

Opening his eyes, Aragorn watched his three companions before focusing his attention on Lillian. Silently, the ranger reflected on the conversations he had concerning the woman.  "As dangerous as the quest is, one of the reasons Lord Elrond sent her with us was for her healing." 

The dwarf's sputtering was drowned out by the angry voice of Boromir. "How could the quest aid her healing? It is a death march for a woman!" 

Looking at the man, the ranger replied, "It is not physical healing that the quest was meant to aid. If that was the case, Lord Elrond would have her remain in Rivendell." Aragorn paused a moment, gathering his words before continuing, "It is her mind and spirit this quest was meant to restore." 

Events of the recent passed raced through Legolas's mind, as he commented, stopping Boromir from speaking. "It already has." 

Aragorn nodded. "It has forced her to face her fears, something that couldn't have been done in Rivendell."

"She's not afraid of us anymore." Boromir stated as he began to follow the other's thoughts. 

A grin crept upon Gimli's face as he said, "And the lass even scolded the elf." 

A knowing smile graced Legolas as a silent truce was formed between the pair. "She is crossing into the next stage of her healing."

"Yes, she is," Aragorn stated. "Yet this stage will be harder to overcome then the one before." 

A light of realization appeared in his eyes as Boromir commented, "All the anger at her world is raising to the surface. And it is causing her to react to what reminds her of it." 

"Gandalf's petulance may be good for the lass then." Gimli said, "It will give her the chance to face that anger."

 The elf smiled, amused by the comment, before turning serious. "Lillian will have to overcome her anger if she is to progress in her healing." 

"That will not be easy," Boromir stated. And the other members nodded in agreement. A brief moment passed between the companions before the noble of Gondor decided to bring up a different point. "She cannot continue the journey."

"No, she cannot," Aragorn agreed before continuing. "Our mission cannot be slowed and Lillian will not be able to travel at our pace." The ranger paused a moment before adding, "I have already spoken of this to Gandalf. After we leave the mines we will make for Lothlorien. The elves there will shelter her." 

Silence passed between the group and as the minutes passed they slowly began to sleep themselves, always making sure that someone took watch. 

When rested, the Fellowship continued their journey with more little breaks until they came to a crossroad of three pathways.  Looking at each choice, Gandalf muttered, "I have no memory of this place." And it was there; that the Fellowship took a slightly longer break while the wizard pondered the new riddle. 

Sitting on the ground, near Lillian, Pippin asked, "Are we lost?" 

"No." answered Merry. 

"I think we are," Pippin stated, before he gazed at Lillian and asked, "Are you sure she will be alright, Strider?" 

A part of him that knew just how weak and sickly Lillian had been when she began this quest wanted to answer, 'No I'm not sure she will be all right.' But no ill signs had come from the woman since her injury and that was a positive thing. Something, which the hobbits needed to know. "She will be." 

"If you say so," was the hobbit's unconvinced response. 

"If he says what?" a raspy voice broke the following silence. 

"Lillian," Pip all but shrieked. 

"No, no. Lie still," the ranger cautioned when she tried to sit up. "Merry get the water." 

The commotion had caused Frodo and Gandalf, who had been locked deep in conversation, to look up. The woman couldn't be sure, but the ring bearer seemed both relieved, and frightened. 

"How long," she croaked before the hobbit could reach the water skin. It was a familiar sensation to be unconscious for long periods of time. But it was almost impossible to tell for how long underground. 

"You have been 'sleeping' for little more then two days," Gandalf answered before commenting, a slight smile gracing his lips. "It is good to see you awake." Gently, Merry tipped the flask of water to her dry lips and Lillian gratefully swallowed the water that slid down her throat. 

While Merry continue to give Lillian water, Pippin told her. "I'm so glad you woke up, I was beginning to worry you wouldn't. We are currently lost."

"We are not lost Peregrin Took!" Gandalf said flatly except for the slight note of amusement. The wizard took an unnoticeable sniff at the air and exclaimed, pointing to the far right passageway, "It's that way." 

"He's remembered!" Merry said his face lighting up with joy. While the others walked after the wizard, Boromir picked up Lillian ignoring her halfhearted protests, and muttered an apology at her gasp of pain and followed. 

As they began down the pathway, Gandalf told the young hobbit, patting his shoulder, "No. But the air doesn't smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose." 

Lillian didn't find that reassuring at all. 

A couple hours passed when the wizard stopped one more time, exclaiming, "I have chosen right. And unless I am mistaken we are high up, a good deal higher than the Dimrill Gate. Allow me to risk a little more light." Suddenly Gandalf's staff grew brighter, and the added light pushed the darkness back, revealing a wide hall with tall stone pillars. 

The company stared in wondered at the sight before them and the wizard started to explained to them some of the history of this place while they sat down to rest for the night. And through out the break the Fellowship made small talk, while Lillian ate some food that Sam had happily provided. 

Lillian lay on the floor where Boromir had laid her, her pack used as a pillow. And as the others talked, Lillian allowed her thoughts to wander, her companions' voice fading. She was tired, confused, and in a great amount of pain. It was a combination that she had never liked. The tiredness and the pain, she was use too and could tough it out, mostly, for they were common factors back in her world. But at every turn, the journey added to her confusion. She was a burden to them and they went out of their way to save her again.

Now with her injury she was a greater trouble to them. She could barely fight before the event at the gate. Now with the wound, she won't be no aid to anyone should a battle occur… Yet, they refused to leave her behind. Day-by-day, Lillian started to believe that valor still lived in this world. A spiral of emotions rose within her at that thought, deepening her confusion. 

Suddenly, Gimli's voice cut through her thoughts as he replied to something Sam had said.  "These are not holes. This is the great realm and city of the Dwarrowdelf. And of old it was not darksome, but full of light and splendor, as is still remembered in our songs." With a growing curiosity, Lillian watched the dwarf rise to his feet and began to chant in his deep voice. 

  
  


"The world was young, the mountains green,  
No stain yet on the Moon was seen,  
No words were laid on stream or stone  
When Druin woke and walked alone  
He named the nameless hills and dells;  
He drank from yet untasted well;  
He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,  
And saw a crown of stars appear,  
As gems upon a silver thread,  
Above the shadow of his head.  
  


  
The world was fair, the mountains tall,  
In Elder Days before the fall  
Of mighty kings in Nargothrond  
And Gondolin, who now beyond  
The Western Seas have passed away:  
The world was fair in Durin's Day.  
  


  
A king he was on carven throne   
In many-pillared halls of stone  
With golden roof and silver floor,  
And runes of power upon the door.  
The light of sun and star and moon  
In shining lamps of crystal hewn  
Undimmed by cloud or shade of night   
There shone for ever fair and bright.  
  


  
There hammer on the anvil smote,  
There chisel clove, and graver wrote;  
There forged was blade, and bound was hilt;  
The delver mined the mason built.  
There beryl, pearl, and opal pale,  
And metal wrought like fishes' mail,  
Buckler and corslet, axe and sword,  
And shining spears were laid in hoard.  
  


  
Unwearied then were Durin's folk;  
Beneath the mountains music woke:  
The harpers harped, the minstrels sang,  
And at the gates the trumpets rang.  
  


  
The world is grey, the mountains old,  
The forge's fire is ashen-cold;  
No harp is wrung, no hammer falls:  
The darkness dwells in Durin's halls;  
The shadow lies upon his tomb  
In Moria, in Khazad-dum.  
But still the sunken stars appear  
In dark and windless Mirrormere;  
There lies his crown in water deep,  
Till Durin wakes again from sleep."

  
  


"I like that!" said Sam. "I should like to learn it. In Moria, in Khazad-dum! But it makes the darkness seem heavier, thinking of all those lamps. Are there piles of jewels and gold lying about here still?" But it was Gandalf who chose to answer the hobbit question as Gimli remained silent. 

"No. The Orcs have often plundered Moria; there is nothing left in the upper halls. And since the dwarves fled, no one dares to seek the treasuries in the deep places: they are drowned in water-or in a shadow of fear." 

"Then, why do the dwarves want to return," questioned Sam. 

"For mithril," Gandalf said, pausing a moment before explaining. "The wealth of Moria was not in gold… or jewels… but mithril. It worth was ten times that of gold and now is beyond price; for little is left above ground, and even the orcs dare not delve here for it. And though mithril was the foundation of the Dwarves wealth it was also their destruction. They delved too greedily and too deep, and disturbed that from which they fled, Durin's Bane." 

During the wizard explanation Legolas looked to the female companion and smiled softly before turning his gaze to the dwarf and commented, "Your song has put her asleep."

"As I meant to," he all but shouted in reply.

And slowly the companions rested until simmers of light began to appear in the hall. Quickly the fellowship began to walk, Boromir once again carrying a sleeping Lillian. For hours they walked until they saw a doorway to their right. The chamber beyond the half open doors was dimly lit, but they could see hints of a stone block. 

Gimli took off running towards the room, ignoring Gandalf's call, and sank to the ground when he saw the writing on the stone slab. Resting his head against the white stone, Gimli muttered, grief strongly in his voice. "No! Oh, no…no…" 

Standing behind Gimli, Gandalf translated the writing. "Here lies Balin… son of Fundin, Lord of Moria." Bowing his head in respect, Gandalf continued, "He is dead, then. It's as I feared." 

The wizard handed his staff and hat to Pippin as he removed a book from a corpse's hands, distantly hearing Legolas telling Aragorn that they could not linger. And though he agreed with the elf, Gandalf needed to know what happened here and so did Gimli. Opening the book, the wizard began to speak aloud the writings. 

"They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates… but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drum… drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark… We cannot get out… They are coming."

And silence followed for several brief moments until clanks were heard as a curious Pippin touched a skeleton, accidentally sending it falling into the well. The Fellowship froze at the sound, listening for any sound of the enemy. But after several moments of silence the Fellowship breathed a sigh of relief. 

Snatching back his staff and hat while snapping at a remorse Pippin, "Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity." 

Lillian's eyes fluttered open at Gandalf's angry tone, halfheartedly; she struggled until the noble of Gondor put her down and Merry gave back her staff to support herself. She looked at everyone, confused about the different emotion she saw on the faces of her companions. 

Faintly, like a heartbeat, a noise came from the distance. One by one the members of the Fellowship froze, apprehensive at its meaning. The beats became louder and faster, and the ten walkers swirled in different directions, trying to locate the source. 

Shrieks pierced the air. The horrible screeches filled with hatred and anticipation, sending horrible chills through the companions. But the closer the sound came, the less the echo there was. Running to the door, Boromir stuck his head out. 

Only to pull it back, abruptly, as two black feathered arrows thudded into the door beside him.

With the help of the Aragorn, he shut the doors, and said simply, "They have a cave troll." They barded the doors with the axes that Legolas threw to them. Stepping away from the door, the humans drew their weapons, taking a stand beside their fellows. 

Looking over his shoulder, Aragorn looked at the hobbits and Lillian, who was still leaning on her staff, and ordered, "Stay close to Gandalf." 

Moments seemed like hours as the Fellowship watched the doors, preparing for the battle ahead. And during that time the darkness seemed to grow, sinking into the very stone, like rain seeps into the ground. The light from Gandalf's staff that used to seem so bright wavered to a mere sliver. 

Never before had Lillian been afraid of the dark. It no was no longer a friend, instead it choked her. It welcomed the coming creatures, like a mother welcomed her children. 

Bangs were heard on the door. And it racked with the force of the blows that the orcs rammed against it. From inside the room the group watched the doors sway under the pressure, and slowly holes began to appear. As soon as a hole appeared, the elf and ranger let their bows sing, sending arrows to meet their attackers. 

As arrow after arrow was shot, Lillian felt her fear creeping upon her. She knew that when the doors were forced open that the battle would begin. 

A battle that she was not ready for... 

Gimli cried out, "Let them come. There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath." His comment drew Lillian's attention, and she stared in shock. He was mad! These things sounded like they wanted to ripe them apart and eat their entrails for a snack… And he wanted them to come? 

As the doors burst apart, the elf backed up slightly to keep a safer distance and continued firing his arrows as Aragorn shed his bow in favor of his sword. And briefly the woman stood in horror as she saw true monsters storm through the door. Lillian saw one of the orcs charging towards her and she froze, watching in dread as it raised its sword against her. Only to fall to the arrow that exploded from its forehead. 

Beheading an orc near him, Aragorn took a stand near Lillian defending her against more approaching enemies while stating. "You cannot freeze now, Lillian. You need to use the skills taught to you even through the pain of your ribs." His words stirred Lillian out of her shock and she nodded, even as she sent him a glance that clearly stated that he was crazy. 

Moving into a stance that she only vaguely remembered, Lillian bit her lip, to keep from gasping in pain. Another orc swung its blade at her and she raised her staff, blocking it. The orc didn't have another chance to attack as Gimli's ax crashed through its sternum. 

Attack after attack came and the human woman did her best to defend her self, but mostly, she was saved by a member of the company. But minutes later a crashing sound caught everyone attention and the Fellowship watched in dread as they saw the cave troll enter. 

Thus began the second battle, following a similar pattern as the first as the members of the company watched each other's backs, and more than not saving Lillian from death. Until a screamed pierce the thicken air. 

"Frodo!" And in that moment of distraction, no one realized that Lillian was in need of aid. An orc had forced the staff from her hands and as she tried to dodge the incoming blow of a sword. But she was slowed by her injured ribs and the blade sliced below and to the right of her stomach, causing a scream to tear from her parted lips. And with a sick grin, the orc raised its bloodstained sword into the air, preparing to finish the job…__

_______________________________________

I finally ended a chapter in a cliffhanger, not something I usually do. But if I didn't end it there, then everyone might have been waiting another week or more for a new chapter…

Sadly, I don't know when the next chapter will be out. Though I have a couple scenes written for it, it is not even close to be done. Also, my writing pace will unfortunely, have slow down, because I'll have to prepare for some upcoming exams in classes.

Next chapter: Lothlorien.

Like? Hate? Let me know! Please!


	12. Chapter 12: Lothlorien

Disclaimer: Own nothing.

**Ssam:**_ Consider your words mark. : ) Hope you enjoy the chapter!_

**Midnight-Insomniac1532:**_ Here's the chapter!_

**Lady Beriaron:**_ Thank you!_

**Feanen:**_ Thanks! I know it was evil cliffy, but my theory on cliffhanger is if you are going to write one, then might as well make it evil._

**LT:**_ Thank you!! As far Lillian… you'll find out in the chapter… sort of._

_Well, hopefully, everyone enjoys the chapter!_

_                        -Lady Healer._

**_Very important note._**__

_Anything written *within these marks* is being spoken in Elvish. _

_And there is a lot of Elvish in this chapter…_

Chapter 12: Lothlorien.

With a screech the orc fell dead, an arrow burst forth between its eyes. From her position on the floor, Lillian looked up, meeting the worry eyes of the elvish prince, and forgot the rules of her world in that brief moment. Nodding her head, she silently told the elf that she would be all right. Legolas returned the nod before aiding the other members in fighting the cave troll.

Hissing in pain, Lillian changed position, so she could grab the edge of her cloak and with a disregarded blade she cut it into three long strips. And while the Fellowship killed the troll, Lillian wrapped the bleeding wound as firmly and tightly as she could. She had neither the material nor the time to dress it fully. The injury would have to wait until they were safe. Lillian just hoped she could last that long. 

The wound was serious, and if it was left untreated to long, she could die from it. The only advantage the human had was that she had dealt with other serious wounds before and had an inkling how long she could hold. But that may not be enough… Even now she could feel herself growing weaker as the cloth began to soak…

Distantly, Lillian heard a 'thud' as something heavy slammed against the floor. Looking up after finishing the first two make shift bandages, the woman realized that her companions had killed the troll and were checking on Frodo. Their conversation was distant to her ears as she wrapped the third bandage around her stomach. Just as she finished, Lillian felt someone pick her up and a cry of pain escaped her. 

Barely she heard Gandalf order, "To the bridge of Khazad-dum!"

Through blurry eyesight, Lillian looked up and realized that it was Legolas who carried her. And for much time, the Fellowship ran as fast as their legs could carry them. But even as they continued on, the shrieking orcs were gaining ground and within moments the companions were surrounded. 

Swiftly, Legolas put Lillian behind him, into the protective circle of the Fellowship, and drew his bow, notching an arrow. And for a moment, time stood still, each able member of the Fellowship held their weapon, ready to fight the battle ahead, one that was certain to lead to their deaths. But as quickly as the orcs appeared, they fled. 

A bright, reddish orange, light appeared in the shadows. "What is this new devilry," Boromir asked the wizard. 

Closing his eyes briefly, Gandalf answered, "A Balrog."

"A demon of the ancient world." Legolas started, fear showing clearly in his eyes. 

"This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" The wizard ordered. 

Quickly, the elf picked Lillian up once more, running with the group as they headed towards the bridge. The pain in her side started to cloud her mind but she faintly heard Gandalf tell Aragorn to lead them on. 

And so the company ran harder then ever before. Down the stairs they went until a gap in the stone halted their progress. With elvin grace, Legolas jumped across the hole, Lillian in his arms. As they landed, Lillian hissed as the action jarred her wound. After walking down several steps of stairs, the prince sat her down, returned to the edge, and with hand gesture, said, "Gandalf."

With one look back, the wizard leaped to the other side and regained his balance with the elf's help. As Gandalf took his place next to the human woman, arrows rained down, missing members of the company by inches. Swiftly the elf and ranger returned the fire with their own bows.

Grasping Merry and Pippin, Boromir jumped the distance, and as soon as his feet left the ground part of the stairway fell away, leaving a larger gap then before. Gripping the back of Sam's shirt, Aragorn tossed him into the other man's waiting arms. Seconds later the ranger went to throw Gimli but halted when the dwarf raised his hand in exclamation. 

"Nobody tosses a Dwarf." And with a jump, he landed on the very edge of the other side, leaning dangerously towards the gap. Legolas grabbed his beard, pulling Gimli to safety, his lips twitching when the dwarf muttered, "Not the beard." And after a few tense moments, Aragorn and Frodo joined them. 

Boromir took Lillian up this time; the company ran again crossing the bridge that led to their escape. But after they had crossed they stopped, a member of their group had not joined them. 

"Gandalf," cried Frodo, held back by the ranger.

 The wizard stood at the center of the bridge, his staff held in front of him as he stood straight. Looking at the demon through narrow eyes, Gandalf called to it. "I am a servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Anor." A bluish color spread from the wizard's staff, creating a sphere of light around him. "The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun! Go back to the Shadow." The mist like shield protected the wizard as the demon brought down its fire-whip. 

Raising his staff, Gandalf brought it down sharply against the stone. "You shall not pass!" And as the Balrog charged at the old man, the bridge gave way, causing the demon to fall to the pit below. 

With a sigh, Gandalf turned and started to walk to the others when the fire-whip shot up and wrapped around his ankle dragging him down with the demon. The wizard held to the ledge by his fingernails and ordered, "Fly! You fools." And then, allowed himself to fall. 

"No," Cried Merry and Pippin together as they ran towards their falling companion. 

"Legolas," Boromir shouted as he saw the hobbits move. Pushing back the rising grief, the elf grabbed the hobbits and the Fellowship made their way towards the exit. With one last look over his shoulder, the noble of Gondor saw the ranger stilled by shock and yelled, "Aragorn!" Boromir's voice pierced his mind, and he began to make towards the exit, ducking an arrow in the process. 

Minutes later the Fellowship stood out side of Moria, standing or lying in shock and grief. Several moments passed as Aragorn took the time to clean his sword before resheathing it, pushing back his emotions as he did so. Looking around briefly, the ranger gave his first orders. "Legolas! Get them up!" 

Slowly, the lost look faded from the elf's face as he concealed his emotions and began walk to Lillian's prone form when Boromir cried out in response. "Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" 

Looking at Boromir, the exile king replied, "By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with orcs. We must reach the woods of Lothlorien."

The elf prince knelt beside the human woman, and he noticed that her breathing was becoming labored. Gently, he put a hand against her forehead, and found it cold to the touch. Pulling back his hand, Legolas was bombarded with the sour metallic scent of blood. Red, human blood, not the black essence of an orc… And the elf recalled that he had seen fresh blood on the orc blade before he had shot him. 

But during the battle, he could not have done anything to help her. Legolas was counting on Lillian to be able to help herself until they were safe. But the elf wasn't sure if she had the strength or practice… 

Alarmed, the elvish prince pulled back the cloak, and his eyes widened in horror when he saw the blood soaked bandages. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Aragorn pulling Sam to his feet. 

"Aragorn! Come quickly!" Legolas's urgent yell brought the attention of the Fellowship to him and quickly they made their way towards the pair. Lillian's eyes fluttered open as she glanced at the elf beside her before she tried to sit up. But Legolas's hand was heavy on her shoulder as Aragorn bent down towards her. 

Studying, the bandages briefly, Aragorn stated, "We must get her to the healers in Lothlorien. I have not the supplies to heal this wound; only a little athelas. And I fear to remove the bindings, for they are the only thing that slows the bleeding." Standing, Aragorn turned to the elf and ordered, "Legolas, take Lillian and make towards Lothlorien, we will follow you, do not wait. Her life depends on it."

Nodding, he placed his weapons on his back, and took the human woman gently into his arms. Legolas ran with all of his speed and quickly the elf distanced himself from the group.

For what seemed to be hours, he raced towards the protection of the Golden Woods. And with every step the elf took, Lillian could feel the pain flare up in her side as the wound was jarred causing her very breath to burn in her lungs. But pain meant she was still alive. Even if she was close to crossing the barrier between realms…

"Focus, Lillian," her impromptu beast of burden warned her. "You must breathe deep." 

  
Barely did the elf's voice reach her clouded mind; but it did. She gave a slight nod and began struggling to take deeper breaths. 

And stopped when coughs began to rack her small frame. Without breaking stride, the elf looked down at his small charge with worry. She was slowly fading... Her breathing was become shallower by the moment. Legolas knew that the being in his arms was starting to give up the fight for her life... He had to find something to get her to hold on... 

Lillian's sight was slipping into darkness. No longer could she see the blue sky or the light from the sun. For a brief moment the world faded from her mind. And the human woman retreated within herself, seeking escape from the pain. 

Legolas saw her eyes close, almost surrendering to the grip of death. Grief tugged at his heart for a second time that day. They had not known each other for long, but she was a companion... The shadows had already taken one of the Fellowship, it could not have another. As he ran for the distant woods, the elf's mind battled, thinking of anything that would call Lillian back to the light. Moments later, he began to mutter in his own tongue. 

"*Wake up*, mellon. *Wake up*" Dimly the words reached her spirit through the dark wall that separated her from the world above. But Lillian's soul clung to one particular word. 

Mellon. The first word she had learned in this world and the one, which had brought her hope. Slowly, pushing against the pain that bound her, Lillian struggled to open her eyes, taking a strangled breath in the process. 

Hope crossed the elf's face as he saw the movement beneath his charge's eyelids. Looking up briefly, Legolas was relieved to see the Golden Woods in all their glory. Soon he would meet the patrols that guarded the elvish city within; soon Lillian would receive aid. "* Hear my voice, my friend. *" 

Again Lillian struggled against the darkness, but with each moment, she lost more strength as the blood dripped from her body. It was becoming harder to put it at bay... 

Looking down at his charge one more time, Legolas recalled the words that Elrohir had muttered to Lillian on the day they left Rivendell. And as he entered the woods he whispered them to her once more. 

"*Do not give up on living, Lillian, for if you do, you will truly be dead. *" Pausing for a moment, the Elvish prince added his own words, "*Fight, Lillian. My friend. Let others see the strength that the Fellowship has seen in you. Live. *" 

And as they ran deeper into the golden woods, Legolas's words reached the human woman. And with several more struggling attempts, Lillian opened her eyes, revealing them to be dark blue, tinged in a gray of pain. 

Gasping for breath, Lillian rasped, "Le…Legolas..." 

"I am here, mellon. Hold on." He continued running with all the speed he possessed, and barely noticed her weak nod. 

"Daro! (Halt)" A voice cried from above them. Surprise flittered across his face and the elvish prince halted as the Lorien elves surrounded him. 

"*What,*" a haughty voice drawled, "*could an elf of Mirkwood be doing in Lothlorien that requires a human to bleed all over him?*" 

'*We are in need of your aid, *" he replied, careful not to hiss. "*She has been stabbed by an orc blade, and has bled too long. *" 

"*You carry to few provisions, even for a single pair,*" the same aristocratic elf commented. "*Where could the rest be?*" Legolas was aware of Lillian's tiny body growing colder as the guardsman interrogated him. 

"*If you mean to hold me, go ahead. But you must take her to a healer!*" The other elf strode around the prince and his charge. He leaned down closer to her face, noting each smudge of dirt and every drop of cold sweat with his blue gaze. Letting a sniff of almost distain escape, he lifted her chin and judged her eyes. Their dull gray flickered just enough. 

"*She will need to be blindfolded,*" he announced at last. Legolas bristled at the comment. But before he could say anything, Lillian came to her own defense. 

"If the mighty," she croaked. "The mighty nobleman says so, I must be truly dangerou..."  Her barb was cut short as a new bought of coughing wracked her body. She tasted blood in her mouth and knew that one of her ribs had punctured her lung during the long run. 

The fact did not go unnoticed. At a signal, two of the other border guards stepped up and took her from Legolas. Carefully they shifted her position so she was resting somewhat comfortably in the taller of the two elves' arms. Looking at the human girl briefly, elf leader, ordered, "*Make to the healers without rest.*"

  
Looking up through hazy eyes, Lillian made out the leader as a tall blond elf. And in her near death state, she let go of the rules of her world.  "What… no blindfold?" 

The elf's eyes met hers and Lillian thought they were an icy blue color, but was not sure as his figure continued to blur. Lifting her chin, the leader studied her eyes further.  "You're to near death to bother with it." And with a signal, the two border guards ran towards Lorien, the woman with them. As they disappeared, the leader heard the last sarcastic comment made by Lillian, before they disappeared from sight. 

"And… I …wasn't before?"

For a moment the elf just stood there, staring off to the distance, intrigued by the dying human. For a being so close to death, she had an admirable fighting spirit. He was mildly curious, if she was this feisty when she is in full health… He did not have the chance to ponder long. The Silvan was questioning him even now. 

"*Peace*," he said, one hand raised to ward off the other's words. "Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion." Legolas frowned. 

"*You knew who I was, and you still saw fit to question me on a mission for aid?*" 

  
Haldir drew himself up with importance, easily slipping into the flowing rhythms of the courtly tongue. "*It is my duty and right to halt all who would walk upon the soil of Lothlorien. Even if they be of Orophor's line.*" 

The elvish prince bit back his comment. He knew that the other was right, but it did not help his nerves in the slightest. And for a brief moment, Legolas closed his eyes and let his thoughts race back home to talks he had with those who had visited Lorien before. In Mirkwood there was talk of the Marchwardens of Lorien, some praised and some scorned. Especially when it came to its captain... Snapping his eyes open, the prince studied the elf before him. His attitude and appearance matched the descriptions that were given to him by others... If what he assume was true then Legolas knew his opponents identity. It was time to turn the tables. "*I believe there were other questions you wished to ask me, Haldir of Lorien?*" 

The captain's eyes widened slightly before he regained his composer. "*Indeed, *" Haldir stated, watching the elf before him for a moment. "*Are there not others in your company?*" Nodding slightly, the prince of Mirkwood answered simply. 

"*Yes, there are.*" 

"*Where are they now?*" Demanded Haldir. 

"*Making their way here as we speak,*" Legolas replied, leaning against a Mellyrn tree. Because he was in another territory, he had to follow the captain's orders to a point, but that didn't mean he had to make it easy. The earlier confrontation had irked his nerves, but now that Lillian was being rushed to the healers, turnabout was fair play. 

He couldn't rightly refuse to do anything reasonable… he was in their province after all… However there was one trick he picked up from his father. Sometimes the way one answered the other question was enough to annoy the other. "*How many of your companions are on their way here?*" asked Haldir. 

"*All of them,*" answered Legolas. Haldir glared at the elf before him, his eyes becoming mere slits, and Legolas return his glare with a look of mock innocence. 

"*How many is all?*"

"*Seven.*"

"*Who are these seven?*" Haldir asked. 

"*Members from a few different races.*" Replied the prince. The captain of the Marchwardens felt frustration beginning to rise in him as he continued his inquires. 

"*Which races are these travelers from?*" 

Looking at Haldir, Legolas allowed a small smirk appear on his face as he answered, "*The free races of Middle-Earth. *" 

The other elf groaned mentally at the comment. Looking around briefly, he nearly groaned out loud as he saw the amusement displayed by his kindred's faces. "*Which free races of Middle-Earth travel with, you and how many of each?*"

"*Two humans, four hobbits, and … one dwarf, *" Legolas said slowly.

Haldir eyebrow arched as he exclaimed, "*A dwarf? We have not had dealings with the dwarves since the Dark Days.*" Looking Legolas straight in the eye, the elf continued, "*they are not permitted in our land. I cannot allow him to pass.*" 

Silently the two elves stared, studying the other for several moments before Legolas argued, "The dwarf is from the Lonely Mountain, one of Dain's trusty people and friendly to Elrond. It was with Elrond's blessing that he is one of our companions. And since setting out he has been brave and faithful.*" Again the two elves glared at each other for a brief moment before a distinct voice reached their elven ears. 

"They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An elf-witch … of terrible power. All who look upon her … fall under her spell; and are never seen again." Legolas nearly groaned as he heard Gimli's voice and mentally cursed his audacity. Looking at the elves around them he saw both amusement and anger in their eyes. Seeing Haldir's raised eyebrow, the elvish prince shrugged. 

"*I never said he was wise.*" Nodding once, Haldir motioned for one of his fellows to stay with their Northern kindred. 

Looking back at Legolas, he commanded, "*Stay here. We will go greet your companions.*" Sighing, the elven prince agreed. 

_'I'm going miss a couple weeks worth of material to jeer at,' he thought to himself. _

  
            Swiftly and silently, the elves blended back into the trees above them and moved towards the traveling company. As the Fellowship came into their sight they stopped, removing their bows from their backs, slipping an arrow as they did. And as they waited for their leader's command, they watched the company below. 

Gimli looked to both sides of him as he continued on with his little speech; "Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox. Oh!" The company stopped in their tracks as arrows appeared at their chins, surrounding them. 

Stepping out from behind one of his fellow elves, Haldir commented haughtily, "The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark." A smirk graced his lips when he saw Gimli scowl. 

With raised hands, Aragorn said, "*Haldir of Lorien, Greetings. I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. My companions and I are need of your aid… But first, please tell me if you have seen our two companions. A Silvan elf from Mirkwood; Legolas Thranduilion, and a human woman known as Lillian. Lillian was gravely injured and Legolas was sent ahead to get her to Lorien for treatment.*" 

_'Aragorn, son of Arathorn? This human has the favor of the Lady.' Haldir thought before he raised his hand saying, "*Put your mind to rest, Aragorn son of Arathorn. We have met your companions and Lillian is on her way to the healers as we speak.*" Sparing a glance to the other confused members of the Fellowship, Haldir ordered, "Come, we shall unite you with your elven companion."_

"Elven companion?" questioned Pippin, "What about Lillian? Is she alright?" 

"She is being taken to the healers as we speak, Pippin." Aragorn translated. And for several moments they traveled in silence until they met back up with the elvish prince of Mirkwood, while Haldir and Aragorn debated the matter concerning the dwarf. 

When they reached Legolas, Haldir turned to face the Fellowship as a whole and began to explain in the common speech, "Seldom do we use any tongue but our own; for we dwell in the heart of the forest and do not willingly have dealings with other folks. There are some of us still who go abroad for the gathering of news and watching of our enemies, and they speak the languages of other lands. I am one. Haldir is my name." Gesturing to two elves beside him, Haldir continued. "My brothers, Rumil and Orophin, speak little of your tongue." 

The captain of the Marchwardens paused as he studied the group before him before he said, "We heard rumors of your coming, for the messengers of Elrond passed by Lorien on their way home up the Dimrill Stair. For many a long year, we had not heard of hobbits, of halfings, and did not know that any yet dwelt in Middle-earth. But you do not look evil! We are willing to befriend you, as Elrond asked; though it is not our custom to lead strangers through our land, since you travel with an elf of our kindred." 

Slowly Haldir switched his gaze from each member of the Fellowship until he came to rest on the dwarf. Silently the captain stared at Gimli before he began to talk once more. His voice taking on a colder edge. 

"With the dwarf, however, it is different. By our law they are not permitted into our land." 

"Only because you are jealous of our culture," Gimli all but shouted in retaliation. 

"It is because of your culture that we have not had dealings with dwarves in many centuries." Haldir told Gimli. 

Gimli glared at the elf before him and said, "You know what this dwarf says about that? Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul (I spit on your grave)." 

Anger entered Haldir's blue eyes as he glared at the 'creature' before him. Behind the captain of the Marchwardens, Legolas shook his head cursing the dwarf's mouth for the second time that day. 

Clasping a hand on Gimli's shoulder, Aragorn told the dwarf, "That was not so courteous." And minutes passed between the two groups at they stared at each other, until it was broken by Haldir. 

"Perhaps your elven companion would like to take back the words he uttered in your defense, dwarf." Surprise entered Gimli's eyes, but before he said anything, Legolas began to talk. 

"Nay, I will not take back my words, Haldir of Lorien. But I wish to apologize on Gimli's behalf for his foolish words. Though is brave and faithful, he is quick to anger and often opens his mouth when it is best to remain silent." And as he finished his speech, the elvish prince glared at the dwarf, who returned it in full. 

For a couple of moments, Haldir remained silent as he reflected on his thoughts. Giving a slight nod to Legolas, the captain of the Marchwarden began to discuss with him and the ranger in the elvish tongue. 

After several moments of arguing Haldir stated in the common tongue, "Very well. If Aragorn and Legolas will guard him, and answer for him, he shall pass, even though it is against our liking. But we cannot debate any longer. Your folk must not remain on the ground. We have been keeping watch on the rivers, ever since we saw a great troop of orcs going north toward Moria, along the skirts of the mountains, many days ago. If you have indeed come from Moria, the peril cannot be far behind. Tomorrow we will continue on." 

With a gesture to two trees behind him he continued, "In these trees are talans. The four hobbits can climb up and stay with us. The others can refuge in the talan in the tree beside it. You, Legolas, must answer to us for them. Call us, if anything is amiss! And have an eye on that dwarf!" And with that the elves and their new companions climbed up to their resting spots. 

Throughout the night the Fellowship slept, some of them peaceful, others slept restlessly. Slowly as the pale dawn rose they awoke to the sound of complete silence. Not even the leaves seemed to make sound. As the hobbits opened their eyes, they saw Haldir kneeling alongside a gray-cloaked elf, watching the ground below them. 

Looking back at the young companions, the captain said, "The night before I spotted a creature which was not orc, it fled as soon as I touched the tree-stem. It seemed to be wary, and to have some skill in trees, or I might have thought that it was one of you hobbits." 

Pausing, the elf reflected on his thoughts before continuing, "I did not shoot, for I dared not arouse any cries: we cannot risk battle. A strong company of orcs has passed. They crossed the Nimrodel- cursed their foul feet in its clean water! - during the night and went on down the old road beside the river. They picked up some sent, and they searched the ground for a while near the place where you halted. The few of us could not challenge a hundred, so we went ahead and spoke with feigned voices, leading them on into the wood." 

Standing up, Frodo walked towards the two elves and sat by the leader while asking, "What will happen now?" 

"Orophin has now gone in haste back to our dwellings to warn our people. None of the orcs will ever return out of Lorien. And there will be many elves hidden on the northern border before another night falls. We will take the road south as soon as it is fully light." 

As daylight came, the group made its way to the west side of the Silverlode and continued south, noticing the prints of orc-feet that lay in the earth beneath them, until Haldir stopped on the bank of a river that was shadowed by the trees. A moment passed as Haldir stood there before he gave a low whistle, sounding like a call of a bird. As the sound faded an elf, cloaked in gray, appeared out from behind the trees and caught the rope that Haldir had thrown. 

"Celebrant is already a strong stream here, as you see and it runs both swift and deep, and is very cold," the captain of the Marchwarden said, looking over his shoulder. "We do not set foot in it so far north, unless we must. But in these days of watchfulness we do not make bridges. This is how we cross!" 

As he fastened the rope, Legolas commented, "I can walk this path, but the others have not this skill. Must they swim?" Shaking his head, Haldir answered. 

"No. We will fasten two more ropes, one shoulder-high and another half-high. Holding these, the strangers should be able to cross with care." And slowly the group made their way across. Once everyone was across the river, Haldir stated, "You have entered the Naith of Lorien, or the Gore, as you would say, for it is the land that lies a spearhead between the arms of Silverlode and Anduin the Great. We allow no strangers to spy out the secrets of Naith. Few indeed are permitted even to set foot there." 

Pausing a moment, glanced towards the river once more and was please to see that the rope bridge had removed, before he looked towards the Fellowship and continued talking, "As was agreed, I shall here blindfold the eyes of Gimli the dwarf. The others may walk free for a while until we come nearer to our dwellings, down in Egladil, in the Angle between the waters." 

"The agreement was made with out my consent! I will not walk blindfolded, like a beggar or a prisoner. And I am no spy. My folk have never had dealings with any of the servants of the Enemy. Neither have we done harm to the elves. I am no more likely to betray you than Legolas, or any other of my companions," argued Gimli. 

Haldir stared at the Dwarf for a moment before he replied, "It is our law. I am not the master of the law, and cannot set it aside. I have done much in letting you set foot over Celebrant." 

Firmly, Gimli planted his feet before saying, "I will go forward free or I will go back and seek my own land…" 

"You have entered the realm of the lady." Haldir interrupted sharply. "You cannot go back. Now that you have come this far you must go before the lord and lady of Lorien. They shall judge you; to hold you or to give you leave as they will. If you try crossing the rivers now, the secret sentinels will slay you before you even saw them." 

As Gimli raised his ax, Haldir and his fellow elves strung their bows. Seeing their standoff, one that the dwarf was surely to lose, Legolas intervened. "A plague on dwarves and their stiff necks!" 

Lowering Gimli's ax, Aragorn stated, "It is hard on the Dwarf to be singled out. We will all be blindfolded, even Legolas." Gimli laughed. 

"A merry troop of fools we shall look! Will Haldir lead us all on a string like many blind beggars with one dog? Yet I will be content, if only Legolas here shares my blindness." 

Glaring at first at the ranger then at the dwarf, Legolas argued anger in his voice. "I am an elf and a kinsman here!" 

"Now let us cry: 'A plague on the stiff necks of elves,'" Aragorn said toward Legolas before turning his attention towards Haldir, "But the company shall all fare alike. Come, bind our eyes, Haldir!" And Legolas's complaints and mutterings were ignored as the Lorien elves blinded the Fellowship. And for several hours the company traveled until a messenger met them with news from the lady and lord. Accepting it with a nod, Haldir removed the blindfolds, starting with Gimli, explaining that it was the lady of light's wish for them to walk freely. 

A few hours later the Fellowship found themselves standing before Lord Celeborn and Galadriel, the lady of light. And in that brief moment mixed emotions swirled within the company. Both the ranger and the prince gave the elvish leaders a slight bow out of respect, while the others looked upon them in awe. 

As the couple reached the bottom of the stairs, the lord said, "The enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Eight are before me; the ninth lies in the house of healing, yet ten set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar." 

At the mentioned of the ninth member, the Fellowship felt a weight on their shoulders lift, as they realized Lillian was still alive. But sorrow's grip on their hearts constricted again as they thought of Gandalf's death. As Lady Galadriel met Aragorn eyes, she whispered.  "Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into Shadow." 

Grief and anger could be heard from Legolas's voice as he replied. "He was taken by both Shadow and flame. A Balrog of Morgoth." The elven prince only paused a moment before adding, "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria." 

The lady switched her gaze to Legolas as she replied, "Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose." Again her gaze moved until it stopped on the dwarf, and smiled gently down on him. "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dum fill your heart… Gimli, son of Gloin. For the world has grown full of peril…" Shuffling his feet, lightly, Gimli looked to the floor tearing his gazed from the she-elf, overwhelmed by her beauty, as the lady continued. "And in all lands… love is now mingled with grief." 

Galadriel rested her gaze on the noble of Gondor. And during those few moments, Boromir felt unease under her eyes. And as the silent conversation in his mind grew, a look of suffering appeared on his face. Finally seconds later, the noble man from Gondor diverted his gaze elsewhere… 

Turning her attention back to the whole Fellowship, the lady of light warned, "The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail… to the ruin of all." Briefly the she-elf glanced into Sam's eyes as she said, "Yet hope remains while the company is true." Lastly she gazed at Frodo and continued her speech. "Tonight you shall sleep in peace for you are weary with sorrow and much toil." 

Taking a step forward, Aragorn made a request. "My lady, my lord. Our companion Lillian, you said she rests in the house of healing. Will you give us permission to visit her? I believe it will set some of our worry at ease." 

Nodding, Celeborn answered. "You may. Haldir will guide you there." Stepping out from the shadows, Haldir bowed to lord and lady before turning towards the Fellowship and with a gesture began to take them to their destination. 

Several minutes later the Fellowship found themselves standing in the room where Lillian lay on the bed, deathly pale. Walking to the elvish healer Aragorn began to discuss with him about her condition. Many minutes passed as they stood there, sadness hanging in the air in a thick haze, all of them except Legolas, who was following the conversation, waiting for Aragorn to tell them the news. 

As the conversation ended, the ranger turned back to the company and Pippin asked, "She will live, right?" 

Grimly, Aragorn shock his head and replied, "They are not sure… She was nearly dead when she arrived to them and they did everything in their power to save her." Looking down to the sleeping figure on the bed, sadness seeping into his eyes, Legolas finished reciting the conversation. 

"The healers say that if she manages through the week then she will live." As the Fellowship watched as the healer change the cloth on Lillian forehead, the feeling of dread settled on their hearts as they realized that they might yet lose another companion and friend. 

It was a thought that none of them were happy with. Slowly the company returned to their rest area as a healer shooed them out of the room. Several minutes passed as silence spread among the Fellowship like a heavy haze. Each took a spot to sit, and ever so faintly they began to hear elvish voices singing in a tongue that most could not understand. 

Looking up to the trees, Legolas stated, "A lament for Gandalf." 

From his sitting position, Sam asked, "What do they say about him?" 

Looking to the young hobbit the elf replied. "I have not the heart to tell you, for the grief is still to near." 

And again silence grew among the Fellowship, as each was lost in their thoughts and emotion until it was broken once again by a hobbit. Slowly, Frodo put his grief to halting words.

  
  
"When evening in the Shire was grey   
his footsteps on the Hill were heard;  
before the dawn he went away  
on journey long without word.

  
  
From Wilderland to Western shore,  
From northern waste to southern hill,  
Through dragon-lair and hidden door  
And darkling woods he walked at will.

  
  
With dwarf and hobbit, elves and men,  
With mortal and immortal folk,  
With bird on bough and beast in den  
In their own secret tongues he spoke..

  
  
A deadly sword, a healing hand,  
A back that bent beneath its load;  
A trumpet-voice, a burning brand,  
A weary pilgrim on the road.

  
  
A lord of wisdom throned he sat,  
Swift in anger, quick to laugh;  
An old man in a battered hat  
Who leaned upon a thorny staff.

  
  
He stood upon the bridge alone   
And Fire and Shadow both defied;  
His staff was broken on the stone,  
In Khazad-dum his wisdom died."

  
  


"Why, you'll be beating Mr. Bilbo next!" Sam said, encouraging. 

"No, I am afraid not." Frodo replied, "But that is the best I can do yet." 

"Well, Mr. Frodo, if you do have another go, I hope you'll say a word about his fireworks," Sam stated and he pause a moment in thought before continuing, "Something like this:  
  
"The finest rockets ever seen:  
they burst in stars of blue and green,  
or after thunder golden showers  
came falling like a rain of flowers."

  
  


Shacking his head, Sam exclaimed, "That doesn't do them justice by a long road."

  
             Once more silence filled the area and in the stillness of sound, the Fellowship struggled against their own emotions. And throughout the night the group rested, but few delved into restful sleep, for grief and dread kept them well awake.

____________________________________________

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!

Well, I got one exam out of the way, and I three left to do. I'll be glad when the next two weeks are over with.

I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. But sadly I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out. However I think it will be soon, for I have most of it written. 

The next chapter…

Chapter 13: Strengthening of Bonds.

Like? Hate? Please let me know!


	13. Chapter 13: Strengthening of Bonds

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Lcat:**_ I'm glad you are enjoying the story! And I do plan on leaving her there, though it will not be the last time the fellowship will see her before the end of the war…_

**Giluim:**_ Thank you! There is going to be romance in the story though the couple may or may not be who everyone except it to be… As for your other question… you will find out in this chapter._

**Feanen:**_ Thanks!_

Note 

_Anything written *within these marks* is being spoken in Elvish. _

_And now I will be quiet and let you read. Enjoy!_

_                        -Lady Healer._

Chapter 13: Strengthening of Bonds.

It was a calm night in Lorien, when the noble of Gondor sat against a tree, his hands resting on his knees. Leaning his head back, Boromir closed his eyes and let his thoughts wonder. 

It had been a week since the Fellowship had arrived in Lothlorien. A mere week since they lost their wizard companion and found another fatally wounded. The grief still tugged at his heart. He had not known the wizard very well, but he had made a deep impression on him. And even more on his brother… Faramir would miss the few discussions he had with Gandalf. And Lillian…

Opening his eyes, Boromir looked towards the sky as his thoughts continued. Their female companion had shown little improvement throughout the last week. The healers, though, now believed that she would live, as Lillian had passed through the worst. And that was good news… Boromir was quite sure what another death would do to the rest of the Fellowship. It would tear at them, little by little until another piece of their resolve was gone. Yet, everyone who chose to be on this quest had known that, though they might not have realized it before. 

But, Boromir knew the words he had uttered to Frodo earlier were true. Gandalf's death was not in vain. Nor would he want them to carry the weight of the dead. Here, in this elvish city, they had been given time given time to say their goodbyes to him. And now there were other matters to attend to. 

No one in the Fellowship knew where they were going to set out for when they continue their journey from Lothlorien, nor had they spoken of it. There was a silent agreement between the members to rest and regain their strength. And part of it, Boromir believed, was because of Lillian. The little ones especially were worried about her… 

"Take some rest. These borders are well-protected," a voice said behind him. Boromir didn't bother to look, he knew who had spoken. 

"I will find no rest here." The noble of Gondor had slept little in the week he had been in Lothlorien. But it was not the death of Gandalf that had caused this restlessness inside of him. Death was nothing new to Boromir; nor was it the injured Lillian. He was concerned for her, but there was no point in wasting energy agonizing over something that was out of his hands. No, since he entered this city, and met the Lady of the light, his mind and heart had been more troubled than before… 

For a moment, the noble of Gondor debated with himself before he finally confided, "I heard her voice inside my head." Boromir paused as the ranger took a seat next to him. "She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me, 'Even now there is hope left.' But I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope." 

Aragorn studied the noble beside him. He was suffering; it was clear on his face. His love for his people and kingdom was strong and knowing that both were in danger, pained him. The silence stretched between them for several moments until it was once again broken by Boromir. 

"My father is a noble man, but his rule is falling… and our…" Briefly the noble paused, collecting his thoughts. "And our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right, and I would do it." And he had tried, many times. Both he and his brother had tried to restore Gondor, but his father did not see it. "I would see the glory of Gondor restored." His father never gave Faramir the chance he deserved. His brother had great strength, some of which he himself lacked, but their father would never see it that way. 

Yes, some land was lost in the battles that Faramir fought, but his younger brother had chosen to keep the people alive rather then claim empty land. Was that not more important? Land could be taken back. Boromir had proven that enough times, but lives could not be restored. Could his father not see that? That Faramir had taken the wisest path? Looking up to the sky, the noble of Gondor questioned the ranger beside him. 

"Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthetion; Glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver." And for a moment lost in his memories Boromir felt like he was in his lands after a long journey, his brother waiting for him at the gate… "Its banners caught high in the morning breeze." The noble smiled lightly at the fond memory. "Have you ever been called home… by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?" 

"I have seen the White City…" Aragon replied slowly, "long ago." 

Briefly Boromir looked at the ranger, curiously. When had this man been to Gondor, close enough to see the White City? Shaking his head, the noble smiled. "One day, our paths will lead us there. And the tower guard shall take up the call, 'The lords of Gondor have returned.'" Silence followed his statement as they both reflected on this thought. During his travels with the ranger, Boromir had seen many things. The silent man beside him did have a leadership quality in him. But was it enough to rule a kingdom? Boromir didn't think so… Aragorn had only taken on command of the Fellowship for little over a week. In such a time it was not enough to judge one person. 

Boromir, however, did see strength in the man. But at the same time he saw a fear that lay within him… During the quest, Aragorn had become a comrade and a friendship was beginning to form, despite their disagreements. This man could aid Gondor, Boromir was sure of that. 

But was he worthy of being its king? The answer still eluded him. 

For several moments the two sat there in comfortable silence, each pondering their own thoughts, until the noble of Gondor asked a question. "Are the little ones still with Lillian?" During their travels, Boromir had noticed that the hobbits had taken to her like a brother to a younger sister. 

"Frodo and Sam are. Merry and Pippin went to get some food," answered Aragon. Again silence passed between the two for a moment before the ranger continued, "The healers believe that she will awaken within a week or two, if her healing continues at a steady pace." 

"That is good." Boromir paused a moment before he questioned, "Have the halflings been getting their own rest? I know that the grief of Gandalf and their worry for Lillian has been making them restless." 

For a moment, the ranger stayed silent, collecting his thoughts before answering, "They have. Both Legolas and I have been making sure of it." 

And once more silence fell between the two humans as they watched the sky above; nether broke it again that night.  
  


  
************************************************

  
  


Legolas narrowed his eyes as he stared at the target ahead of him, and slowly he drew back the bowstring and released the arrow, watching it fly through the air and land in the center of the target.  

Drawing another arrow, the elf let his thoughts wonder. It had been a week and a half since they entered Lorien and yet it seemed longer to him. The Fellowship had agreed to rest for however long the lady and lord allowed, and it was good for all of them. They were still tired after traveling and weary from the death of Gandalf. 

Despite all his years of life, Legolas had very few dealings with death. He had seen it before among mortals, yes, but rarely; very few mortals ever came to Mirkwood. His people didn't trust strangers with a good reason why. 

But Gandalf was not human, nor dwarf, or even a hobbit. He was a Maiar, an immortal servant to the powers above. And though there were times when they would lose an elf in a battle, never had it been so close to his heart. Gandalf had been a close friend and his presence was sorely missed. Again, Legolas release an arrow and it split the pervious arrow in half as he felt his thoughts shift to another matter of concern. 

Lillian, their female companion. Twice in Moria she was wounded, and both times the members of the Fellowship failed to prevent it. Everyone in the company knew that she could not fight well, especially when she was already injured. Yet, for that brief moment during battle, they had forgotten her… And the elf could still remember her scream when the orc's sword had sliced through her flesh. 

Even now it chilled his soul. It had drawn his attention and he had shot his loaded arrow into the orc before it could kill her. But the damage had already been done. The wound was severe and Lillian had been fading fast. Legolas was just glad that the wound had not been poisonous or she would not have made the journey to Lorien. As it was, she laid lifelessly in the house of healing. The physicians said that her health improved by the day, and Legolas believed them. But even with the knowledge that she would live; it did not erase his guilt. 

No one could control how a battle occurred; the elf understood and accepted that. But the experienced members had taken it upon themselves to watch for the others, and they even watched out for one another. Though they all knew one day it would come to a point where they could not aid the other in time, did not make the pain any less. 

As Legolas was about to reach for another arrow from his quiver, a different arrow came from his right, hitting the target and splitting his own. Looking to the side, the prince of Mirkwood spotted the captain of the Marchwardens make his way towards him, bow in hand. 

"*Are you not supposed to be on patrol, *" Legolas asked quietly. 

"*I leave late tonight, *" Haldir replied as he studied the prince before him. He was still struggling with the death of Gandalf, he could easily tell. He had seen this lost look on his own mother's face when news came that his father had died in the war against Sauron. He himself had felt it each day as he watched his mother fade until she had passed from this world. It was a pain that always stayed with you, though it did lessen in time. As long you let go and allowed yourself to heal. But the Silvan had not done that, he still held on. 

For several moments the two stood in silence, each lost in thought before Haldir simply stated, "*You need to let it go. *" 

Closing his eyes, Legolas replied. "*I not sure if I can. *" Slowly the sound of a sword leaving it's sheathe registered in his mind, and the prince of Mirkwood opened his eyes to glance at the elf beside him, raising one eyebrow in question. 

"*Draw your daggers, *" was Haldir's calm response. Pausing for only a moment, Legolas followed the older elf's instructions and set his bow down to draw his blades. And quickly he brought them to block the strike that the Marchwarden sent at him. 

Pushing past his confusion, Legolas returned the blows with his own, his body swiftly falling into a battle stance from years of practice. As Haldir retreated backwards allowing his opponent to miss, he questioned him. "*Was there anything you could have done to prevent Gandalf's death or your companion's injury? *"

 Pursing his lips together briefly, Legolas replied as he blocked a strike towards his head. "*No.*" 

"*Then let the guilt go, *" Haldir countered as he swung at the other's torso. 

Blocking the blow, the elven prince said, pain seeping into his voice, "*I can't.*" 

Pressing the offense with a couple more strokes with his blade, the elder answered coldly. "*Then there was something you could have done. *"

Legolas barred attack after attack. "*No, there wasn't… But I should have…*" 

"*Should have what? *"Haldir interrupted sharply. "*Have seen it coming? Prevented it? They are just weak excuses to escape what you are feeling now. *" 

Anger began to course in Legolas body as he glared at the other elf. Striking out towards his opponent with his daggers he began to switch to the offensive as he muttered through clenched teeth. "*I am not running from my feelings, captain. I know the guilt I feel is useless for there was nothing in the battle that I could have changed without foreknowledge of how the battle would occur. *" 

"*Yet you are too weak to let it go, *" Haldir said simply as he blocked the prince's attacks. 

For the next several minutes the two dueled and during that fight Legolas felt his emotions being pulled and stretched by the other elf. Anger followed grief and then frustration followed by sadness in an endless cycle as he struck at Haldir only to return to defense when the other elf sent an attack of his own. 

And then with a twist of his wrist, Haldir used his sword to send one of the daggers flying from the Silvan's hands and after a few moments the second blade followed. Quickly, the Marchwarden kicked the legs of his unarmed opponent from underneath him, sending him to the ground. Placing one foot on his chest, Haldir rested his blade against Legolas's neck and spoke coldly.  "Anger and grief clouds the mind, youngling." And the captain of the Marchwardens ignored the angry glare that the prince sent him and continued. "*You are on a dangerous quest and if you do not learn how to handle the death of friends or strangers then you will be the cause of not only your own death but others as well. *" Slowly the fire in Legolas's eyes died as Haldir's words sank in.

Glaring coldly into the other's eyes Haldir stated, "*You are no longer under the safety of your father, prince, it time to grow up. Others in this world have lost more than a companion. If you cannot let go of your pain for yourself then let it go for the sake of your Fellowship. *" Standing up, Haldir returned his sword to his sheathe and with one last glance left the training area, letting the other elf ponder his words. 

And there, Legolas lay. Time had no meaning as he pondered Haldir's words. He was right. Though the pain of loss was terrible, he had to let it go. Once he thought he had days ago, but the confrontation with Haldir proved him wrong. And so, the elven prince stayed there, letting his weapons lay were they had fallen as he shifted through his emotions. 

"Elves. They don't even know how to put their own weapons away," a gruff voice said many moments later. And the voice brought a slight smile to his face, despite himself. "How can elves be great warriors if they don't take care of their weapons?" The voice continued as he heard the dwarf walking around, stopping twice briefly before he walked towards him. 

Looking up, the elven prince saw Gimli standing before him; lying in his offered hand were his twin daggers. And Legolas realized what the true offer was. An act of friendship. In Moria they had begun a truce and now there was a chance to take the relationship one more step. 

With a small smile gracing his lips, Legolas rose to his feet and accepted back his weapons, sealing the bond between them. There had not been a friendship between dwarves and elves for many years, but the times were changing. Legolas wasn't sure what would occur in this alliance, but when he had accepted it he felt a sense of peace settling in him. Sheathing his blades, the elf remarked. "Speak for yourself, my friend, for I do believe that I see rust on your axes." 

"Rust?!" Gimli exclaimed, a different light appearing in his eyes, "There is no rust on my axes, elf!" 

The next several hours the two spent together, talking and throwing back and forth teasing remarks. And during that time their bond of friendship strengthened and the grief each had been feeling lessened. The camaraderie between them was still new and weak but with each passing day it grew. 

  
************************************************************ 

  
  


Night was falling in the city of Galadhrim when Legolas entered the house of healing and approached the sleeping figure on the bed. From the corner of his eye, he could see Sam, asleep in the chair. A smile crossed the elf's face at the sight. Since the healers had told the Fellowship that it was possible Lillian could awaken at any moment the hobbits had been taking turns sitting at her bedside, determined that she would see a familiar face when she awoke. And many times, Aragorn and he had joined the little ritual in order to get the hobbits to rest themselves, in someplace other than a chair. 

Gentle shaking the hobbit awake, Legolas whispered, "Go to bed, Sam." 

Through sleepy eyes, Sam looked up at the elf. "You will stay with her?" 

"I will," the prince assured. 

"'Cause she will be frightened if she doesn't recognize anyone," the hobbit continued still sitting in his chair. Gentle pulling Sam from the chair, the elf guided him towards the exit. 

"Worry not, my friend, she will not awaken without someone near by. I shall stay with her through the night." And with a pat on his shoulder, Legolas continued, "Now go to bed, young one." 

Sam pursed his lips together in thought before he nodded and started to go back to the Fellowship's pavilion. Quietly, Legolas shut the door and made his way to the window by Lillian's bed. The few times he had stayed at her side, he had spent sitting in the window, looking to the sky above while singing many different songs. And in all likelihood, this night would pass the same. 

And so, as he sat down on the window seat he looked to the sky thinking of what to recite this evening. Several moments later he decided and began to softly sing.

  
  
"An elven-maid there was of old,   
A shining star by day;   
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,   
Her shoes of silver-grey.

  
  
A star was bound upon her brows;   
A light was on her hair  
As sun upon the golden boughs  
In Lorien the fair.

  
  
Her hair was long, her limbs were white,   
And fair she was and free;   
And in the wind she went as light  
As leaf of linden-tree.

  
  
Beside the falls of Nimrodel,   
By water clear and cool,   
Her voice as falling silver fell  
Into the shining pool.

  
  
Where now she wanders none can tell,   
In sunlight or in shade;   
For lost of yore was Nimrodel  
And in the mountains strayed.

  
  
The elven-ship in haven grey  
Beneath the mountain-lee  
Awaited her for many…."

  
  


Legolas paused as his ears picked up some small sounds. Turning his head away from the sky he looked to the bed, to see Lillian's sleeping form shift, and the grimace that appeared on her face. Silently he watched her, as her eyes fluttered and many moments later they opened, before closing again. 

For a moment, the elf thought she had retreated back to sleep, when a soft, rasping voice said, "Don't…stop…please." He crossed the room and picked up a glass of water, and he sat on the edge of the table. Gently, he helped her take small sips from the cup, before he sat it on the side table. Briefly he saw her blue grey eyes open once more before they closed again. But from the rhythm of her breathing, Legolas knew that she was not asleep and slowly he began singing again.

  
  
"Awaited her for many a day  
Beside the roaring sea.

  
  
A wind by night in Northern lands  
Arose, and loud it cried,   
And drove the ship from elven-strands  
Across the streaming tide.

  
  
When dawn came dim the land was lost,   
The mountains sinking grey  
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed  
Their plumes of blinding spray.

  
  
Amroth beheld the fading shore  
Now low beyond the swell,   
And cursed the faithless ship that bore  
Him far from Nimrodel.

  
  
Of old he was an elven-king,  
A lord of tree and glen,  
When golden were the boughs in spring  
In fair Lothlorien

  
  
From helm to sea they saw him leap,  
As arrow from the string,  
And dive into the water deep,  
As new upon the wing.

  
  
The wind was in his flowing hair,   
The foam about him shone;   
Afar they saw him strong and fair  
Go riding like a swan.

  
  
But from the West has come no word,   
And on the Hither Shore  
No tidings elven-folk have heard  
Of Amroth evermore."

  
  


And as the last word faded from his lips, the elven prince opened his eyes and looked towards figure in the bed. A slight smile graced his lips as he noted the tear streaks that ran down her checks from her closed eyes. 

Silently, Legolas sat down beside her on the bed and rubbed the moisture away. As he did so he realized that her breathing had evened out, she was a sleep once more. But this time, her heavy sleep did not worry him, for the elf knew that she would wake again, and that was a joyful thought. 

Though she had many wounds to heal from, she was no longer at death's door and that alone would put his, and the rest of the Fellowship's, worries to rest. The shadow that had hung over them had lessened. 

Lillian would most likely have many visitors in the morning when she awoke again… And the four hobbits would probably be the first. The thought brought a chuckle from him as he returned to the window and leaned his head against the frame. Several moments passed before Legolas began to sing again till the morning light, feeling content.

__________________________________________

Well, that was chapter 13. I hope everyone enjoyed it!

The next chapter will be out as soon as I can done writing it… though I not quite sure when that will be. I have several ideas for the next upcoming chapters.

Like? Hate? Please, let me know!


	14. Chapter 14: Pranks and decisions

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Nikki:** _Thanks! I'm glad you have been enjoying the story thus far!_

**Animegirl123:** _Thanks!_

**LalaithoftheBruinen:** _Thank you for the ideas! They did help me push pass the writer block. As for Boromir's fate… you will find out in about three to four chapters for I already have that scene written. _

**NessaVan:** _I also hate it when authors abandon their stories. And as for this story… it too much my baby to give up on it._

**ElfIcarii:** _Thanks again for the ideas you sent me! They really helped a lot._

**_Chapter 14: _****_Pranks and decisions_**

The mid-morning light shimmered through the tree limbs as Legolas stepped out of the house of healing, wearing a serene smile. Briefly, the elf stopped a moment at the sound of approaching feet. Looking briefly to the side, his smile widened as his elven sight spotted his hobbit companions. 

Relaxing against a tree trunk, Legolas watched as his friends came closer until he called out in greetings, "Good morning my friends." With a small gesture to the forest around them, he continued his welcome, "Beautiful day, isn't it?" 

"Why are you not with Lady Lillian? You said you would stay until she woke up? She might…" Sam stopped in mid lecture as Legolas held up in hand. 

"But I was, my friend." The prince's smile grew as he saw the looks of confusion begin to change as realization dawned on the four halflings. Legolas watched as their eyes lit up with hope, replacing the dull light that had settled in their eyes since Moria. 

"Lillian…" Merry started before Pippin interrupted. 

"You mean Lillian is awake?" A chuckle escaped the elf as he saw the hobbits' excitement. It was good to see them happy again. Gandalf's death had weighted them down heavily as did Lillian's injuries. But now things were beginning to return to normal. 

"She woke late last night." Legolas paused for a moment before continuing. "She is currently awake and eating a light breakfast as we speak." Again he laughed, watching as the hobbits rushed into the house of healing in excitement. Shaking his head in amusement, Legolas headed towards the pavilion where he would find the other members of his company. 

Several minutes later, he arrived at his destination and stopped briefly to study his fellows. The two humans were dueling a couple yards away, and from the sweat on their brows, the elf knew they had been working for a while. Practicing with one another had become a habit while they stayed here in Lothlorien, waiting for news of Lillian's condition. Each had also made sure that they took time to instruct the hobbits on how to wield their weapons better. 

Scanning the area, Legolas spotted his dwarven friend sleeping. He raised an eyebrow in slight wonder, before shaking his head. Shifting his attention away from his companion, the elf opened his mouth to call out to the two human males and stopped as his eyes rested on a pitcher of water. Looking back at his sleeping friend and Legolas's lips twitched. He knew if he woke Gimli by water that there would be retaliation, though it would have been amusing. 

Deciding against it, Legolas called out to his friends, "Aragorn! Boromir! I must speak with you!" As his human companions ended their session, the elf turned to his dwarven friend, saying, "Gimli, wake up!" 

But the dwarf ignored the elf as he unto his side with a small mutter of, "annoying elf… I'm sleeping." 

"What do you wish to speak to us about, Legolas?" Aragorn asked as he and Boromir stopped beside him. 

"About Lillian, though the news will have to wait until our friend decides to grace us with his consciousness. He is refusing to wake up." 

"I have never seen him that determined to sleep before during our journey," Boromir stated. 

Aragorn nodded in agreement.  "Perhaps he dreams and does not wish to awaken just yet." 

"His caves perhaps…" Legolas started to say before he pause as he recalled a memory, a soft smile gracing his lips as he continued, "Or perhaps the Lady." After a shared look, the trio nodded in agreement. 

"During my younger years…" Boromir started to say as he reached for the water pitcher and nodded in satisfaction when he saw it full. "There were times when I didn't want to wake up. My brother discovered quickly that throwing water on me worked rather well." Looking at Legolas, Boromir asked, "Would you like to give him a last warning?" 

In answer, the elven prince called out to his companion once more. "It is time to wake, my friend. The sun is shinning and the birds sing. A far too beautiful day to waste sleeping…" 

Again the dwarf's only reply was a slight mutter. 

With a shrug, Boromir tossed the water onto Gimli before throwing the pitcher at Legolas, who caught it easily, raising an eyebrow in question as he did. 

With a sputtering roar, Gimli sat up. "Cursed ORCS!" Hearing chuckles from the side, the dwarf paused in his rant as he looked at the elf that held a pitcher lightly in his hand and glared.  "Blasted elf, I was getting some decent sleep without have to listen to your kin sing!" 

"You sleep far too much, my friend. Not getting old, now are we?" Legolas asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 

"Old," roared Gimli as he stood up. "I'll show-" 

"Lillian is awake," Legolas interrupted Gimli as Aragorn leaned against a tree and smiled slightly at the dwarf's expression at the sudden change in the conversation. 

"That is a relief to hear," Boromir commented and the others members nodded in agreement. 

A comfortable silence passed between the group before Legolas spoke again.  "Our time is ending here. I can feel it. We need to decide what to do concerning Lillian and what path we will take to Mordor." 

"The lass cannot continue the journey," Gimli stated in his plain manner. Nodding his head, Aragorn agreed. 

"No, she cannot. Her wounds will not have recovered enough, nor could we protect her should we be attacked again as in Moria." Again silence passed over the group before Aragorn continued, "I will speak with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn and see if they grant her to stay within the borders of Lothlorien when we leave." 

Again the company nodded in agreement, though Boromir seemed reluctant. After a brief pause, the noble of Gondor looked at the ranger and asked, "And our path?" 

"Lord Celeborn has granted us some boats; the river shall be our road for a while." 

Before the other members could comment, Merry and Pippin walked up to them, each holding a tray with drinks on them in their hands. 

Stopping in front of them, Pippin asked, "Would you like some wine? It's not ale, but it's not bad." 

Raising an eyebrow in amusement, Legolas asked, "And why are you offering us wine?" 

"To celebrate Lillian recovering, of course," replied Merry. Sharing a look with the other members of the Fellowship, the elf shrugged before staring at the wine goblets suspiciously. Slowly, the members each took a goblet, sipping the wine well aware of the growing grins on the hobbits' faces. 

Again they shared a look before Legolas calmly asked his companions, "I do believe this is a prank," while watching the hobbits run away from the corner of his eye. 

"Because it appears that it is." Was Aragorn answer, his lips twitching slightly.

  
Seeing Aragorn's green teeth, the elf ignored Gimli's muttering and chuckles. "Colored teethed." 

After the ranger nodded in affirmation, Legolas questioned, "Time to return the favor?" 

"Indeed." Replied Boromir.

  
  
******************* 

In the soft light of the morning sun Lillian leaned against the truck of a tree in one of Lothlorien's many gardens. A week had passed since she had awoken to Legolas's singing and the healers had finally consented that she was well enough for small walks. 

Despite the pain that ached in her side consistently, the human was grateful to be away from the confines of her bed. The long rest had unnerved her. Never before had she slept so long, for the nobles of her world would never have allowed it. They would work servants to their deaths, doing little more than binding a wound to keep bloodstains to a minimum. 

Lillian wasn't as surprised by this new kingdom of elves' kind actions. Partially, this was because she was beginning to adapt to this strange world and its chivalry. Time and again the beings in this world had shown the meaning of true valor, and of honor. Her weariness of nobles had begun to fade and some managed to slip past her self-imposed barriers. But at the same time other emotions were rising. She could still remember the two times she had given into her anger… 

Slowly, the human woman sat down on the grassy ground beneath her, closing her eyes as she did so. They had lost Gandalf in Moria and Lillian didn't know about it until Aragorn had informed her of the wizard's death. A death that occurred in his battle against a Balrog... she could barley remember red flames before her vision had begun to slip in and out of reality. 

It hurt knowing that the old wizard was gone. He was grumpy and rough, but he was a wonderful grandfather figure… and she had spoken to him in anger before his death. When he had reminded her of Kalin and her anger had taken control… 

Looking back, Lillian wished she could have one more conversation with him. But that wouldn't happen and there was no point in wishing for things that could never be… a lesson she learned long ago. 

Shaking her head, her unbound hair sliding against her shoulder, the woman shifted her thoughts to more pleasant ones and a smile graced her lips as she reflected on one of the hobbit visits…

  
***************Flashback*****************

  
  


It was the third day after she awoke, as Sam and she were eating lunch during a calm afternoon. Throughout the meal they had talked about topics ranging from Sam's home in the Shire to events that had occurred during the time that she had been unconscious. 

They were just finishing when the door burst open, revealing Pippin and Merry. Quickly, Merry shut the door before he looked at the other two occupants, whispering.  "Hide us!" 

"What did you do now?" Sam questioned as Lillian looked at them in curiosity. 

"Just colored some teeth… the faresh you told us about worked wonderfully, Sam." Merry replied as he walked towards them, ignoring the other hobbit grumble as he asked, "Hello, Lillian! Feeling better?" 

Nodded her head in greeting, the human answered, "A little better. Who's teeth did you color?" 

"Only four people… Boromir, Aragorn…" Merry started to answer when Pippin finished. 

"Legolas and Gimli, too!" 

"You two get yourselves into way to much trouble," Sam lectured the other two hobbits. "And one of these days it's going to come back to haunt you!" 

"It was just a bit of fun…" Pippin commented. 

"And that's why you need to be hidden?" Sam countered. 

Climbing under the bed, Merry replied, "They are clearly over reacting." 

Silence passed through the room for a moment before being broken only by Lillian's soft laughing and the following gasp of pain. 

Peeking his head out from beneath the bed, Pippin asked, "Are you alright, Lillian?" 

"Yes, Pippin, I am alright," She answered holding her side loosely. "It just hurts to laugh right now." 

"You're sure," Pippin question once more and when Lillian answered 'yes' his head disappeared back underneath the bed.

 For a moment there was only silence before Sam spoke up. "What colors did you use?" 

And from underneath the bed, Merry answered, "Red for Legolas, blue for Gimli, green for Aragorn and purple for Boromir." Before Sam could comment the door opened once more revealing their other human companions. Briefly they scanned the room before turning their attention towards the bed. 

"You wouldn't happen to seen Merry and Pippin today," Aragorn questioned. Lillian and Sam's mouths twitched at the sight of the exile king's green teeth, each of them biting their lips to keep from laughing. Instead, of answering their question, the woman simply waved at them with one hand. 

Glaring at the two, Boromir demanded, "Well, have you seen them?" And at the sight of the noble's purple teeth, the two broke and laughter began to fill the room before Lillian moaned in pained. 

Still slightly annoyed, but concerned, Aragorn walked towards the human woman, asking, "Your ribs still bother you?" She nodded in replied as the ranger took the empty tray from her lap to the side table. And briefly, Aragorn paused as he spotted a cup of tea sitting innocently on the table. Raising an eyebrow at the woman, the ranger stated, "You were meant to drink that tea. It will help speed your healing as well as dim the pain." 

Lillian pursed her lips together before she grumbled, "It would also put me to sleep." 

"You need to rest." Boromir commented from the front of the room. And as Aragorn offered her the cup of tea, the woman glared at it before she slowly took it and began to drink, a grimace on her face. 

The other occupants of the room chuckle at the expression, and a moment later, the ranger said, a slight teasing note in his voice, "Surely it is not that bad, Lillian." 

Offering the cup to him, a pleading note colored her voice, "You're welcome to the rest of it, Lord Aragorn." 

"No, thank you," the exiled king replied, waving his hand to ward the cup away. 

  
With a slight grumble, Lillian continued to drink her tea as Boromir re-asked their question.  "Have you seen Merry or Pippin this afternoon?" 

"I've seen them everyday; running this way or that, getting into more mischief then is good for them. They hardly stay still, so we would be no help." Sam answered. 

The nobles nodded in reply to that answer and as Aragorn was about to say something in reply when a movement caught his attention. Carefully he studied the area were the bed met the floor and barely caught sight of a foot slipping back underneath. 

Looking at Boromir, he nodded towards the bed and made a slight hand gesture, signaling what he found, before he held his hand up, telling the other noble without words to wait. 

Through drooping eyes, Lillian watched them, noticing Aragorn nodding to something in the direction of the window. Slowly she turned her head to see Legolas sitting calmly in the window seat, a bucket in his hands. Slowly, the two nobles reached down, their hands reaching for the blankets, and paused when a quiet voice was heard. 

"Merry?" 

"Yes, Pip," Merry whispered. 

"Are we in trouble?" 

"I believe we are," Merry answered. 

"Run?" Pippin questioned. 

"Run." The other hobbit confirmed. And quickly the two hobbits scrambled their way out from underneath the bed, barely missing the reaching hands and ran towards the door, opening it, only to stop when they saw Gimli standing on the other side, holding a bucket. 

  
********************

Shaking her head, Lillian pushed away the memory, but not before smiling at the after affects of the pranks. The healers had caught her companions wrestling on the floor wet, spotted with flour and made them clean everything up, all but two. Aragorn and Legolas somehow managed to escape the mess before the healers came. But the outcome of the two pranks had started a small war within the Fellowship that still continued. 

"Good morning, Lillian." A voice called out in greeting, drawing her out of her thoughts. 

"Greetings, Lord Aragorn," she returned as she watched the ranger sit across from her, a book in his hands. The exiled king had offered to continue Elrohir's lessons in the elvish language and with only slight hesitation she had agreed. And for a couple hours, the two worked away on Sindarin. However like his predecessor, he was becoming highly frustrated. 

"No, no. Do not drag the words," he rubbed his forehead. "Put a little more lilt in your voice, and more air into your speech." 

"Such may be easy for you, Lord Aragorn," she grated. "For you have lived among these beings many years. It is easy after listening to them for so long." 

"You are giving yourself too little credit, Lady Lillian. You have come far in your pronunciation." 

Lillian was about to reply when a sight behind Aragorn caused her to pause. Biting her lip the human woman giggled as she saw Merry walking towards them tugging at the red bow that refused to come out of his hair. She gestured for the ranger to look behind him while she clutched her side. 

And as Aragorn spotted Merry he questioned, "Having trouble, Master Brandybuck?" 

Tugging at his hair one more time, Merry replied, "This bow was in my hair when I woke up this morning and it won't come out. You wouldn't happen to know who did this, would you, Aragorn?" 

The ranger barely failed to suppress a grin. Instead, he stood up, replying "Let me see if I can remove the bow," and slowly he walked behind the hobbit, aware of Merry's suspicious eyes. Swiftly, the ranger began to undid the knot and as he removed the bow stated, "It was an elven knot. Ones, I believe, that the wood elves are quite fund of." 

Merry's eyes lit up. "Legolas." And then with a quick nod to Aragorn the hobbit started to hunt for their elven companion. 

As Merry disappeared from sight, Lillian asked, "Was it?" 

"Though it was an elvish knot, it was not Legolas who had put it in his hair, I did." The ranger replied calmly causing the woman's lips to twitch with slightly repressed laughter. 

For a moment Lillian paused in thought as she wrestled her inner struggle once more before asking, "What about Lord Legolas? Should he not be warned of…" The human woman paused as she saw the exiled king shaking his head. 

"Legolas is expecting them." Aragorn paused for a moment before he added, "Nor is he alone." 

Lillian looked at the ranger curiously before asking, "Who is with him?" 

The growing smile on the man's face was her only answer, though the smile dimmed a little. The Lady and Lord of Lothlorien had agreed that Lillian could remain in their kingdom when the Fellowship left. 

But they had yet to inform her of that decision, and he wasn't sure how she would handle being left behind in an unknown city by those she was beginning to trust. Aragorn knew that it could hurt her and there was less than a week before they left.

________________________

_Well, that was chapter 14. Hopefully, everyone enjoyed it. I'm sorry for the long wait._

 As for the next chapter… I'm not sure when it will be out.  I haven't started on it yet, though I do have some ideas for it. However, I won't start working on it until I get two things done.

_One. Finish and send in my aptitude test for a writing coarse that I'm trying to get in._

_Two. Get chapter three for my Lord of the Ring/Harry Potter crossover story, Crossroad to fate, done. The chapter is roughly half way done at the moment._

_Well, till next time._

_Like? Hate? Let me know please!_


	15. AN: No, I have not given up on the story

Hi.

Sorry for the delay in the story. My only excuse is that I have been busy and that not much of an excuse.

First, I like to say that I have _not_ given up on the story. Far from it, in fact.

Next order of business: I have been accepted into the writing coarse.

Now story business.

For a while now, I've been having trouble writing this story, partly because I was having a major writer block concerning it.

However, that block had lifted and I have many ideas for future chapters.

But I have a couple things I have to do first. Revise old chapters is one of them. I went back and read some of the old chapters and notice mistakes that need to be fix before new chapters can come out. It should not take me long, but please forgive me for the longer wait.

However, because some of the revise chapters will have new scenes along with new chapter between old chapters I simply going to repost the story to avoid confusion in missing plot points between the old and revise versions. Not to mention, save me a headache.

When all the chapters, old and new, are post up to the point this story is at, this version of Learning to Trust will be taken off fanfiction.net.

For some people peace of mind, I'll will inform you that many of the elements (or some/several chapters) will not change. Others need to, for the sake of detail that should had been put in the first time I wrote this but wasn't because I didn't think of it at the time.

The first chapter of the revise version of LLT will be posted tonight. However, the chapter did not change much. I just added one or two more details in it and change some of the sentences structure in it.

Chapter two should follow shortly, though I don't think that chapter will change, but I have to finish going through it to make sure.

Further more, I like to thank those who reviewed: **LalaithoftheBruinen**, **ElfIcarii**, **NessaVan**, **Gilluin**, **Angela0523**, **DaveRocks**, **Midnight-Insomniac1532**, **Mioni-bear**.

Till next time,

Lady Healer


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